You were in your room when your dad’s voice cut through the hallway, sharp and commanding. “Get out here. Now.”

You dragged yourself into the living room, already sensing what was coming.

Your mom stood with her arms crossed, your older sister perched smugly on the arm of the couch, and your younger brother leaning against the wall, grinning like he was about to watch a show.

“What is this I hear about you skipping your math test?” your dad demanded.

“I didn’t skip it,” you said quickly. “I wasn’t feeling well, and—”

“That’s crap,” your sister interrupted, her voice sing-song and irritating. “You were with Kevin. I saw you.”

Your brother snorted. “Told you.”

You glared at him. “Mind your own business.”

“Don’t talk to him like that,” your mom snapped. “We’re talking about you. And if you think running around with that boy is more important than school, you’re out of your mind.”

You felt the frustration boiling up. “It was one test. I’ll make it up—”

“Don’t you dare talk back to me!” your dad barked, stepping forward.

Your sister smirked. “She’s always talking back. Never listens.”

That was it. “Maybe if any of you actually listened to me for once, you’d know why I do the things I do instead of just assuming the worst!”

Your dad’s face twisted. “Don’t raise your voice at me—”

When you didn’t back down, his hand came down fast across your cheek. The sting was instant, the sound echoing through the room.

You stumbled, clutching your face, but before you could recover, your mom was shoving your shoulder hard enough to send you into the wall. “You’ve had this coming for weeks,” she hissed.

Your brother laughed nervously, your sister muttered something about you being “overdramatic,” and suddenly it all blurred into noise.

“I hate this place,” you choked out, the tears spilling now.

“Go to your room,” your dad ordered, pointing down the hall. “Before I really lose my temper.”

You didn’t argue. You just slammed your door and slid down against it, your hands shaking.

The joint was out from its hiding place in seconds. The first inhale burned, but you welcomed it, the fog settling over you, muting everything. It wasn’t enough. Not tonight.

Your hand found the razor under the drawer lining. The sting grounded you, the sight of red pulling you away from the chaos just enough to breathe again.

With trembling fingers, you grabbed your phone and typed: “Please. Come get me.”

Kevin’s reply came almost instantly: “Where are you?”

You shoved a hoodie into your bag, pushed the window open, and climbed out into the cold night air. Your breath came fast, but you didn’t stop moving.

Half a block away, you saw the glow of headlights — and Kevin, already leaning across the seat to push the door open for you.