At home, things didn't get much better. I decided I didn't want to stay home. I changed into a mini-skirt and a halter and did my make-up. When I was finished, I grabbed my pocket-book and went upstairs.
"Where are you going dressed like that?" Mom demanded.
"Out," I answered heading past her toward the door.
"No your not," she grabbed my arm.
"Watch me." I jerked away from her and disappeared down the street.

I walked into Daphne's, a club that was just built downtown. I felt like going wild. I felt like being heard. I felt like screaming my freaking head off. And, from what I've heard, Daphne's was the place where I could do just that. I walked in and sat down at a booth, letting myself become absorbed in the music. A waitress came and I told her I wanted a diet soda, because they don't serve alcohol. So I sat at the table, drinking the soda and sulking.
A guy in baggy jeans and a gray hooded sweatshirt walked past my table, then turned around and sat across from me. Sean.
"What are you doing here, Emma?" he asked.
I glared at him. "Why do you care?"
He was silent. "Come on, I'll walk you home."
"I don't want to go home."
"Well you don't need to be here. You're too good for this," he said.
"Like you're too good for it?"
"This is what I am, Emma, deal with it."
"I never said anything about who you think you are. I don't appreciate you stepping out of my life to sleep with that whore and then waltzing back in here and pretending you care. Because you don't, Sean. You don't care!"
"I never said that! If you get sucked into this world, then you wont get out. It is a hell, Emma, a hell."
"You know nothing of hell," I said, my voice hateful and meaningful. Full of rage.