it was a stormy night. i was 14. my little sister playing downstairs in her room. downstairs in the kitchen my parents were shouting loudly. they did this a lot. olivia, my 4 year old sister, always got scared. she came in my room and hid in my bed. i hated them for doing this. especially in front of her. they kept yelling until i heard something. it made chills flood my body. “THEN LETS GET A GODDAMN DIVORCE JOHN!” my mom had just said divorce. i froze. tears plucked at my eyes. how could they do this?! i had to stay strong for Olivia. i had too. after about 6 months it was official. my dad moved out while Olivia and i stayed with our mom.

it had been 5 years since the divorce. Olivia was 9 and i was 19. I was a senior in highschool. i had always played football because it helped me get emotions out. i had friends, but how would they know how i felt? they haven’t been through that. their parents were all happy and perfect. so i kept my emotions bottled up. i’ve dated girls too, but none of them stick. i don’t know what a healthy relationship looks like. how could i? my parents didn’t. i was called a player. i didn’t care anymore.

i was sitting in math class smoking, one of the many habits i picked up after the divorce, with my friends. some short blonde walked into class. she was knew. she had this innocence to her. it annoyed me. well, i don’t know what the feeling was but i’m sure it was annoyance. she sat down next to me since it was the only open seat. her voice was so happy and cheerful it was annoying. she tried to talk to me but i blew her off. “hi i-“ “dont care.” i said. but she didn’t look hurt by it