The shouting echoed through the house, sharp and relentless. Your dad’s fist connected with your arm, the sting burning beneath your skin. Your mom’s voice cut through the chaos, cold and angry. “You’ll learn respect—one way or another.”

Your older sister sat on the couch, watching silently at first, but when you looked her way, you saw something different in her eyes: hesitation, maybe even regret. Your younger brother stood beside her, clutching a pillow like it could shield him from the tension.

“I’m done,” you finally said, voice breaking. “I’m so tired.”

Your dad’s glare was fierce. “Go to your room. Now.”

You didn’t argue. You stormed up the stairs, slamming your bedroom door behind you. The silence that followed was heavy—almost suffocating.

Minutes later, a soft knock came at your door.

Your sister’s voice was gentle, tentative. “Hey… can we come in?”

You hesitated, then nodded.

She stepped inside, followed by your brother. Neither said much at first—they just sat on the edge of your bed, giving you space.

“I’m sorry,” your sister whispered, voice shaky. “We don’t want you to feel alone in this.”

Your brother nodded, looking at you with wide, earnest eyes. “If you want, we can tell Mom and Dad you stayed here tonight. They won’t ask questions.”

You swallowed hard, surprised by their kindness after all the tension.

“I’m going out,” you said quietly. “To see Kevin.”

Your sister’s eyebrows knitted in concern. “Is that safe?”

“It’s the only place I feel safe right now.”

Your brother spoke up, determined. “We’ll cover for you. We’ll say you stayed.”

Your sister smiled faintly. “Just be careful, okay?”

You felt a fragile warmth spread through you—the first real comfort all night.

Later, as you slipped out your window into the cool night air, you knew you weren’t entirely alone.