Hi, inspiration hit. But anyway, R&R. Please?

Disclaimer- I have nothing witty to say. I don't own it.

The walls start breathing
My mind's unweaving
Maybe it's best you leave me alone.
A weight is lifted
On this evening
I give the final blow.-
The All American Rejects, It Ends Tonight.

It was raining. Why was it always raining? Whenever something happened it was always raining. The first time her father beat her mother it was raining.

Mommy, can I go dancing in the rain?

Sara would kill for those innocent days back. Back when she was so young. Nothing was a problem. She wouldn't have to worry about comin home and her father being drunk. But hell, it was how most people lived anyway. Fighting, covering up. Just like drugs. You weren't supposed to do 'em, but everyone did 'em anyway. Like in Health Class. The teacher talked about how if you knew anyone was doing drugs, tell a parent of trusted adult. If someone you knew was being abused, tell a parent or trusted adult. If you we're being abused, tell a parent or trusted adult. But no one actually told anyone. Just the way of life.

Sara's mom was screaming now. Something at her father. But she managed to block it out. No thunder was outside, or lightning. How Sara ached to go dancing. To forget the pain. Why does this pain hurt so much? She didn't know. But she had to get out of this place. It was stifling her. She had to get out! Sneaking down the stairs and out the back door never seemed so simple. Yet everything's easier said then done. Realizing that her parents fight was in the bedroom, she snuck out without even thinking. Down the stairs, out the back door.

Suddenly… alive. Suddenly… free. Dancing, twirling. Nothing existed. But then she started to get cold. And as moments always do, this one ended. And she knew that she had to go back inside before her father noticed her absence. If he noticed, Sara had no clue to how far he would go.

But as she walked in through the back door, something wasn't right. There was silence. Never silence. She would've heard his car if he had left. Something… something was so wrong. Sara's inside lurched with a sudden burst of fear. There was the smell of iron in the air. She tip-toed up the stairs, deathly afraid of what she might find. Her mother was rocking. Back and forth, back and forth. She was covered in blood.

"Mommy?" Her 12 year old self instantly became her 5 year old self again.

Back and forth, back and forth.

The silence coming from the master bedroom was deathly quiet. As she walked in, she slowly took in the room around her. Blood spatter everywhere. A bloodied knife lay on the floor. And her father. His eyes wide open. Soaked with the scary red stuff. Blood. Everywhere. There was no escaping this nightmare. A scream echo's through the night. Sara is surprised by it. She didn't know her body could make noise. She glances back.

"Mommy?"

"I killed him, Sara, I killed him. He was gonna get us. I killed him. I killed him."

Back and forth, back and forth.

A falling star
Least I fall alone.
I can't explain what you can't explain.
You're finding things that you didn't know
I look at you with such disdain.

Please, please, please click that nice, pretty, purplish button. And write something.