Going home is the worst part of the day.
But it's the one thing she won't say,
Not to anyone, not even to herself,
Which is a strange thought in and of itself.

It's all because her father was there.
He would always greet her with a glare.
Berating, screaming, scolding her for something.
Or raising his hand at her with a swing.

Marks and bruises covered her, almost head to toe.
She wasn't sure if she could take one more blow.
At least at the literature club, she was safe.
Here, she was completely unsafe.

At the club, she would chat with her friends.
To her, they were all a godsend.
Even if sometimes they drove her crazy,
With them, she was happy as a daisy.

She could read her manga collection without fear.
The thought of doing it all the time made her want to cheer.
She made food for them, mostly cupcakes, but still food.
They would all compliment her and say it was good.

In the literature club, she could freely smile.
Which she hadn't done in quite a while.
Her father gave her no reason to.
Her anger towards him grew.

She never understood why he hated his daughter so.
He used to love her very long ago.
But things changed, and now viewed her with hate.
Treating her like she was dead weight.

She loved him, but she hated him.
Hatred flowed in her, from limb to limb.
Striking her with blows and kicks,
Leaving her battered like a broken stick.

Why couldn't she fight back?
God, she'd like nothing more than to make his face crack!
Why was all of this happening right now?
What did any of this mean anyhow?

Her stomach growled, begging for food.
But she was always starved and devalued.
Tears flowed. Nothing was going to change, ever.
Would she be like this forever?

She wished she could fly,
High in the sky, high in the sky.
Where she would never be kicked, hit, or abused.
She would fly to whichever place she'd choose.

All she wanted was to be in a happy, light like bubbles and foam.
But now, like this, she was going home.