"You're late again! You always come home late!"

 

I woke up from the shout of Mom. I made my way out of my bed and slowly opened the door of my room. I saw Dad just got home. I closed the door and dropped myself to seat on the floor. I hugged my knees as I buried my head in my arms.

 

"Here you go again. Can you spare me just this once? I just got home and I'm tired. I wanted to sleep. I have a work early later."

 

"No! You're not going to sleep until you tell me the truth! Why are you late again?! It's 2 am for God's sake!"

 

Stop. Please stop.

 

"What do you expect? I have a job I needed to be done!"

 

Stop fighting.

 

"Oh really? Does drinking is part of your job? You can't fool me! The alcohol reeks on you! And what is that on your cheeks?! Isn't that a lipstick!?"

 

Please don't fight anymore. Please.

 

"How dare you cheat on me?!" What I heard next was the crashing of plates from the kitchen.

 

Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop fighting!

 

"Can you please pipe down?! And stop throwing things on me! Irene might wake up!"

 

"It's a good thing she'll wake up so that she knows what an of a father she has!" Then a follow up of crashing things have been heard around the house.

 

Why are you always fighting? Why you two always need to fight? Why Dad always comes home late? Why Mom always crying?

 

 

 

 

 

 

I don't understand.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I don't understand.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I really don't understand.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's.. It's starting to get cold.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's really cold.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I can't breathe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why is it so cold?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My heart feels like it's being squeeze so hard.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It hurts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It hurts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It really hurts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

IT HURTS SO MUCH!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I DON'T WANT TO FEEL THIS PAIN ANYMORE! IT HURTS SO MUCH! I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE IS ALWAYS LIKE THIS!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'm.. I'm tired..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'm really tired..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I.. I don't want to get hurt..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Should I.. Should I die?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Should I kill myself?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What does it feel when I die?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Won't I feel pain anymore?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I wonder..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Is.. Is anybody there?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If there's someone who can hear me please..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Please save me..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

--

 

 

 

 

I sling my bag pack on my shoulders. Ready to school. I walked downstairs and saw my Mom sleeping in the dining table with a bottle of wine in her hand. With every fight Mom and Dad did, there's no day I saw Mom sober. She's always drunk every time.

 

I exited our house. I didn't bother Mom to wake her up. The last time I did, she slapped my hand away with my hand accidentally knock off her bottle of wine and it fell on the floor. She was furious. She stood up from her seat and looked at me with hatred eyes. Then a hard slap landed on my cheeks as she started saying painful words I don't want to remember.

 

I'm broken.

 

I don't recall the last time Dad talked to me. My memory was hazy. Maybe the last time she talked to me was in my dream. It never happened.

 

I'm dead inside.

 

As I was heading to school, I saw by the restaurant window a family eating together. They looked joyous as they keep on laughing and smiling.

 

I'm jealous.

 

When was the last time again we eat together? It was so long ago, it felt like it didn't happened before.

 

It hurts.

 

I diverted my eyes from the restaurant and dragged myself to school.

 

 

 

 

 

--

 

 

 

 

 

"Aaaaannnddd Irene got top on our Geometry exam last week! She got perfect score! Let's give her a round of applause!" My Professor announced as my classmates gave me their praises by clapping their hands in unison. I stood from my seat and made my way to get my test paper. I said my small 'thank you' to my Professor and I headed back to my seat. I seated at the last row at the back, beside the window. I chose this seat because the chair next to mine is empty. I like it that way. So that no one will talk to me.

 

Actually, it was not empty before. I had a classmate seated next to mine. But apparently, she exchange seat to the vacant seat on the front. She said, she's tired listening to my miseries in life. She's tired that I'm always sad. She's tired of me every time I'm crying. She's just.. tired to understand me.

 

I'm tired of myself too.

 

I'm fine with it because I don't want to be a burden to others anymore.

 

I'm already a burden to myself.

 

Whenever my classmates are approaching me, it always feels like I always expected to talk. I always expected to smile. I always expected to join in. And I am sorry because I don’t have the energy to be around with them. I don’t have the energy to follow conversations or think of things to talk about.

 

I'm s