A young teenager sat stiffly in her room, trying as hard as she could to block out all the yelling coming from the kitchen, but her attempts were futile. They were fighting again; her parents were. This occurred all the time for her; and she couldn't bare it. She only wished that her parents could at least put up a front of being happy for her sake; they just had to bear with each other for about six more months, and then she was off to college.

She felt selfish, but her parent's selfishness was much greater; her father always picked a fight with her mother, always bringing up some stupid reason whenever he was unhappy. He shouted and yelled at her for not showing enough affection, forgetting to call in when she was late, and verbally attacking him; she knew her mom was never in the wrong, but she could do nothing. She wanted to protect her mother, to stand up to her father, but she couldn't find her voice. She wanted to speak up; to shout, to stop the fighting. But she just couldn't. Her body just wouldn't take her forward.

Whenever they fought, she felt weak; her energy would drain, the usual smile that adorned her face would disappear, and she'd sink into a depression, no matter how happy she was before. She just couldn't do anything when they fought, but try to stop listening and divert her attention. But it was impossible. She just couldn't.

She bit her lip in anger as she listened to her father rant on about useless facts that didn't even matter; why was he so stupid? Why was he such a jackass? He couldn't understand anything. Why was he so stubborn? Why couldn't he see reason?

A crash resonated from the other room, and she flinched a little as her legs turned to Jello. She knew he was packing up to leave; he was leaving, maybe for good. in that moment, she hated him. She hated him with every fiber in her body. He was such a jerk, a jackass, and an arrogant bastard. She wanted him gone from her life; she hated him.

Secretly, she wished he'd come into her room and see her shedding her angry tears. She wished he'd come in, because maybe, just maybe, she'd finally be able to find her voice and scream everything she ever had bottled up at him. She could tell him how much she hated him and his stupid, invalid arguments. She could tell him that he was being a selfish, arrogant attempt at a know-it-all.

Briefly, she contemplated running away; but the rain outside told her that it wasn't a wise idea, that she would probably die within days. She could camp out at a friend's house, or maybe find a job and strive on her own. She wished that she could just skip the next six months and finally be off to college; where she'd be finally free. She'd finally be free.

At last, he entered her room; but her confidence to speak drained as she clenched her teeth and instead only glared at him through her bangs. Her fist tightened on her lap as he tried to console her with petty remarks about how much he loved her and that he'd always be there for her. But she wanted nothing from him. Nothing else but his disappearance. Her hatred burned like a flame in her heart. Leave. Me. ALONE. She thought bitterly to his retreating back.

In that moment, she vowed never to fall in love; she'd only end up like her mother. She'd rather die alone than have to live with someone as idiotic as her father. No, love wasn't for her, even though she dreamed about it often. She wished that a perfect Prince Charming existed somewhere, but she was quick to face reality. Happy endings didn't exist in reality. And this was a very difficult reality indeed.

Fuck You. Fuck my Life. Fuck everything. I just want it all to end.

Don't Ever Miss Your Chance to Speak Up. - Shiori.