I thought I was actually going to do it. I thought I was actually doing something that I never thought I'd have the guts to do. I thought I was going to go through with it, until I chickened out.

See, I was all hyped and pepped up to run off and find a new life, but once I found out that I was only 30 miles from home, and I was hungry (and in desperate need of a shower), I decided it might not be a half bad idea to go home and try this again when I have a few hundred more dollars and survival skills to back me up.

I arrived at home late at night. I was tired as hell. I had been awake (and walking) for more than 40 hours, and I wanted to go home and get some rest.

As I approached the suburban-style neighborhood I lived in, those words just kept ringing in my head.

Just like my mother.

Just like my mother.

But I'm not.

There was no car in the driveway. The mailbox was still intact, so I didn't have to worry about dealing with a hung-over father.

No one appeared to be home, which is exactly what I needed. I went inside, taking a very cold shower, so cold I ended up turning blue. When I was dressed (and more importantly awake), I walked downstairs to the wallet lying on the counter. It was no surprise that my father nor my brother remember their money when going anywhere (except the bar). Hell, if it weren't attached to their bodies, they'd even forget their heads.

I stole some money (okay, borrowed without promise of return or pay-back), and went off to RadioShack.

What possessed me to shop here I will never know. I wouldn't be caught dead in a RadioShack. But, the thing is, I don't know anyone who has a tape recorder and I wouldn't be caught alive in Best Buy.

So, I'm walking through the store, when guess who I see.

Yuffie.

She spotted me, and I waited for the dirty look (which I planned on replying to with a very immature stick-out of the tongue), but she just looked at me and went back to what she was doing.

I should have just left it at that, but I wanted to go talk to her. Not to fight with her necessarily, but just to have a little chat to see what my favorite Aeris Gainsborough was up to.

Me: Hello.

Yuffie: Grunt.

Me: So, how have you been lately.

Yuffie: Not too bad.

Me: Have you...done anything interesting lately.

Yuffie: No.

Me: So you're life is doing nothing at all.

Yuffie: Pretty much.

Me: Is it because of all those rumors going around?

Yuffie: Pardon?

Me: You don't want to talk to me cause if you were caught, you're social life would be thrown in a plastic bottle, only to be cut up and thrown in the trash. Cause, ya know, none of that stuff that was ever said about me was true.

Yuffie: I know. But people also have problems. There's reasons for the way they act.

I really want to laugh.

Right now.

Me: Could you kindly explain to me what people could have possibly gone through to act this way?

Yuffie: Lots of things.

Me: Don't they all have mothers?

Yuffie: Well, yeah.

Me: Do they have a drunk step brother and a neglecting father?

Yuffie: Well-

Me: Were any of them abused by their parents for years, so much that they actually were hospitalized because they didn't have any food for two weeks?

Yuffie: Well, Barret's brother did break his arm...

I advanced toward her. She took a step back. She looked almost scared.

Me: Or, how about, to top it off, were any of them hospitalized because they had to get an abortion because they were raped by their own father?

I was starting to yell now, which caused one of the costumer service cashiers to order me to "shut my face hole or get the hell out."

Me: Sorry.

Yuffie: You know Tifa, I'm not supposed to tell anyone this but::shuffles closer so her face is right next to my ear::, ever since you left Cloud, he's been really broken about it. He's been using girls, even poor Aeris because he still isn't comfortable with the situation.

Okay...

Yuffie: Whacha got there?

She was pointing to my tape recorder I had picked up off one of the shelves.

Me: School project.

Yuffie: What kind of school project?

Me:

Me: Experimental audio recording.

XXX

I got home before my father, thank heavens. Robert was home, but in his room. I wasn't planning on visiting him anytime soon.

I set up the audio recorder on record in the living room and went upstairs to my bedroom.

The sun was setting, and the last bit of yellow flooded my room. Sunday afternoon. I went into my bedroom, giving myself a long hard stare in the mirror. Same as always.

I changed into my pajamas and drifted off to sleep.

Two hours later, the front door of the house slammed open and shut.

Show time.