My feet hit the floor as I jump out of my bedroom window. I pull myself up, thankful I didn't just fucking snap my foot. I should've just left through the front door.

But then he would've seen me. And the beating I'd get if he did- I don't have time for that shit. Not for the pain, the shouting. None of it.

I take off in a hard sprint down the road, not heading anywhere in particular but far away from this torture house that I should call home.

But it's not home. Never has been, probably fucking will be. Fuck, I can't wait till I get to move out even with the non-existent money I have- I'll sleep on a bench for the rest of my life.

Anywhere but that house, with him. I need to be gone. Far away, alone. In the peace and quiet. But right now? I'll settle for the back booth of a 24/7 diner where only the occasional married man sits.

Trying to escape his life as well. Asshole. Bet he has kids. A wife who loves him, yet he comes here to hide. He doesn't know how lucky he is.

To have someone who loves him. Cause I know I damn well don't.