I know that it never goes away
all i feel, everything I'm not today
so i try and i try to make everything right
i don't feel like I'm doing it, it affects me

you wouldn't listen even if i told you
who the fuck am i to say?
You're too busy with the lies they sold you
another cure to fix your day
open wide for all the shit they feed you
while the TV defecates
and blindly walk wherever they will lead you
while the edges slowly fray

i know that everything can change
what i need is to open up again
so never again will i look back in vain
cause today's not the past,
i don't need to relive it

are you satisfied?
I've given all i can and are you pacified
or do you want more from me?

I've learned that this life's not just a game
just a line between the pleasures and the pain

-Staind fray

Her eyes open vividly...

She thinks that her parents are still drunk from last night, or just woke up early and started to drink...

Drunk before 8:00 am? Man...

She tries to sit up, but her body seems to have a different plan for today, it seems like she is being weighed down. Like chains were tied to her wrists and ankles and her body was tossed into the sea.

She squeezes her eyes shut and then opens them again, carefully listening to see if she could hear any noises going on downstairs.

She can hear very few things, she can here her mom throwing away stuff, probably empty vodka bottles. She can hear her dad searching for his car keys- he's going to drive drunk again, it kills her. She just prays he's sober enough not to get himself killed, but then again maybe it would be better for her and her mom if he was killed.

Finally she hears her father slam the door leading to the garage and a few minutes later the garage door open and the car speed out onto the gravel driveway.

Brooke pulls herself up to a sitting position. She wonders if her moms drunk. She can always tell if her moms drunk. Her mom will have glazed over eyes. Her face will have no color, and her hair will look dry. But the thing that always gives her away is her smile, the kind of smile that you see when a person isn't really there, when there empty and hurt...

See... Brooke's mom doesn't drink for the hell of it... no, not like Brookes father; her mom drinks until she cant feel the pain anymore, the emotional pain that her husband forces upon her.

And the physical pain her husband also forces upon her.

The stairs creaked as brooks soft footsteps crept down them. She was going to see if her dad had his glory last night- a.k.a nearly killing her mom.

But first she must see if her mom was drunk, if she was- she couldn't let her mom see her because then she would blame Brooke for the way her husband treats her- she will blame Brooke and she wont even know that with every word its making a deeper scar in Brookes soul.

Brooke reached the wall that stood between her and the kitchen. She knew her mother would be in the kitchen, she always was. Cleaning the counters. Back and forth with a damp wash cloth, back and forth, back and forth.

Brooke once heard on the radio that cleaning or ironing reduces stress because of the back and forth motion. She understood her mothers' ways now.

Brooke reached her head out so that she could look behind the wall at her mother.

She wasn't drunk. Just had a hangover- that's all.

Brooked walked out into the entrance of the kitchen, examining her fathers work. A new black eye and some trashes on her arm- they were still bleeding a little.

She bent down and opened the cabinet under the sink to where her and her mother hides the first aid kit and grabbed it, she swung it up onto the counter and opened it.

She no longer heard her mother cleaning the counters anymore. Brooke spun around to make sure her mother was still there. And she was, she was standing there looking at Brooke with nothing in her eyes.

Brooke continued gathering her supplies as she walked toward her mother and grabbed her moms' hand and led her to a chair by the table. Her mom sat down as Brooke pulled up another chair and placed her supplies down on the table. Her moms' arm reached out just enough for Brooke to have a good look at the wounds.

Her mom was now crying silently, her face wasn't red and there were no whimpering noises, only tears slowly falling down the side of her cheek and to her lips.

Brooke took a cotton swab and disinfected her moms' wounds and applied gaze bandages over them to help them close up.

"Now remember, these have to be off by the time dad gets home, if he sees you with them on..." Brookes voice trailed off as she shut her eyes and opened them hard- so her mom would not notice.

Suddenly something happened that never had happened before.

Her mothers' head fell over onto brooks shoulder, no other part of her body was touching Brooke, just her forehead pressing into Brookes shoulder.

Brooke didn't move until she heard her mothers faint whimpering sounds. Her mother has never done this- her mother has never given Brooke any kind of hug or kiss or anything. Brooke didn't know what to do until finally she realized her mom just wanted someone to hold her.

Brooke cautiously put her hands on her moths back as the whimpering sounds grew louder to a soft muffled cry and Brooke tightened her hands into a hug.

They sat like that for a long time, at least an hour or two, not even realizing the time. Because the longer they sat there the further the clock inched its way toward the time were her father would come home until suddenly the garage down opened.

Brooke and her mother jumped up from the table putting all the supplies into the first aid kit when

BANG

The door flung open and the first aid kit smashed onto the ground and everything fell out. Brookes father stood there looking at the first aid supplies by his feet in astonishment and Brooke and her mother stood- frozen, silently praying that maybe in there wildest dreams he didn't notice. He slowly bent down, as Brooke and her mom didn't even dare to move. He picked up the metal box that was suppose to hold the supplies. He slowly stood up with the kit in his hand and flung it at the wall with all his might, about 2 inches away from Brookes face.

She felt her stomach do a big flip and she could of swore her heart stopped beating for a few seconds.

Her father took big steps toward Brookes mother and her, his big clumsy hand swung back and then came forward and fiercely slapped Brookes mother as hard as possible, she fell to the floor but didn't make a sound as he pushed Brooke up against the wall and with one hand under her chin, the other one swung open the drawer next to them that held the silverware. He whipped out a knife and placed it at Brookes' neck.

So close

But not close enough to cut her.

And he whispered:

"I...hate...you...and that bitch down on the floor right now, you both took my life away and I want it back!!" and with that he grabbed a hold of Brookes color and whipped her around as hard as he could and let go, sending her into the wall on the opposite side of the kitchen, near the stairs.

She knew she was going to die, she just knew it, she couldn't pick herself up if it meant her life, which right now was quite possible. But somehow she managed.

You know, when your scared you can just about do anything.

And she did, she picked herself up and hurried up the stairs when her dad had turned around. She almost fell a few times but she managed to get down the hall to her room and to close the door and lock it, jam a chair under the handle, and lock herself in her closet. She crouched into a ball in the way back corner of her small closet and cried.

She cried as she listened to plates' break, and angry yelling from her father, and high-pitched scream/crying from her mother, and lamps shatter, and her mothers small body being thrown against the wall- as she had just been. She listened to the liquor bottles being smashed against the wall, and bloody-murder screams from her mother. She listened until it all ran down, and everything became increasingly quite, until there was no more sounds.

No more anything- and everything was black.