"That's not what I meant, that's not what I said."
"Well it's what I heard."
"I think that I should know what I said." I slam the door. Fuck you mom. Don't try to tell me what I said. You really think that I wouldn't know what I said two seconds ago? I am not the idiot you make me out to be.
"And again you think you won another battle in this household…" She mumbles off annoyed and pissed at me. Gone. Finally. My mom and I never got along. It doesn't really matter. I don't need her. I was witty enough to get along all by my lonesome for the past fourteen years. Do you think that I would be able to get through my teenage years, the hardest years of my life, and than need you for everything? I don't think so. It was raining. Little pieces of the sky falling down to earth, nourishing and sustaining life. People are stupid. Teaching their children that rain ruins everything. They use it as an excuse to sit inside and watch a movie or sit on the window sill and mope. Rain could never cause give me anything but inspiration, it calms me. The art of rain, it's the name I will give to my book when I get the chance to write it. Making sure my mother wasn't in the hall I swiped the key that was kept on top of the molding around my door, I locked the door and opened the window letting the cool rain soak my burning face. The rhythm of the rain was soothing, pretty, musical. My first floor bedroom created an easy escape to the rain. Slipping outside the window pulling the blinds down and sliding the window closed silently. The smell of the spring night and spring showers filled my nose. I ran into the trees next to the house. The freshly cut wet grass stuck to my tennis shoes. I followed the path that it was only slightly visible with the rain. I was soaked already. The water in my hair was dripping onto my face and the grass that had stuck to my shoes was already brushed off by the underbrush. The path was known by heart, yet branches still lashed out cutting my arms and scratching my face. Reaching the outer edge wall around our 10 acre lot, I tried to find a tree close against the stone wall. Stepping up on the lowest branch, feeling the stone and concrete, I grabbed the top of the wall and tried to pull myself up. I flailed my feet trying to find another branch to step onto. Finding it, I pushed myself onto the top of the wall. The trees in this patch of woods were quite large, sheltering alot of the underbrush. I jumped down off of the wall.