Staring up at the ceiling,

Late, late at night

The bicker and banter from across the hall

Is getting to me alright

Trying to hold back tears, it forces me to realize,

That all these years, the pain hasn't ceased once.

And so the routine is the same, every single night

The two of them come in, settle down, then begin to fight.

Right? No, it's not right.

Not that I have to be inbetween them everytime.

"You better be glad!"

"You better count your blessing!"

However neither of them throws not one blow.

But this time, at this hour of early day, something's differn't though.

Same bicker and childish rave, but it almost seems like they've had enough.

With a thought like that, I turn over and try to comfort myself

But it irks me to no end, this difference that I cannot seem to comprehend.

"..."

"..."

Silence?

At 2:30, he comes out of the room, face pulled together in a contortion.

So I sit up in bed, creep to the door and peek across.

There she lays silently, body contorted.

I didn't hear any screams, or any cries for help.

But there she lay, no rising or falling of the chest.

How could she leave me alone by myself?

With him, too, and without a shield.

Gone away is she, at this early point in the day.

I have no choice, but to choose what I will do.

Is there another way? Not likely for me to say.

Not too long later, he comes back into the house.

And with two suitcases, he grunts and comes into my room, then flicks on the lights.

"You coming, kid?"

Learn more about this author, Liyah M..
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