My heart beat unsteadily against my chest, crying out for freedom from the pain it was enduring. Each silent, ragged, intake of air causing the space to grow smaller as it confined me within these car doors. My hand gripped the armrest mercilessly. Each finger ached as pain shot up my hand like a child running from the inescapable. I squinted out the window, trying to avoid the hellish, bloody glare of light invading my every thought. The back of my head tingled and screamed for relief from my relentless stream of thoughts. Coming and going as fast as the sting of hail over and over again. I was not alone, but I am fighting this on my own.

He had no idea of the torture I was going through. His imperfect, idiotic, selfish daughter supposedly didn’t hear his harsh words that had slashed through me like a knife. The cuts grew deeper with each slash, old scars tearing open at the remembrance of his words. My breathing grew shallow and fast as I pressed myself even closer to the window. The frigid glass created defined goose-bumps along my arms. My hair rose to protect me from such an unpleasant feeling, but failing to keep me safe.

Not a word had been muttered and the silence was deafening. It rang obnoxiously in my ears, piercing through me as if I was a fish being caught on a hook. The hum of the tires on the road cut through my senses.

My father’s hands on the steering wheel jerked around causing the car to hammer back and forth. Each jagged movement nearly causing my heart to come out of my throat. It was as if he was saying; “You suck, you don’t deserve any of this. You don’t work hard enough!” Instead he kept silent, holding captive whatever was running his thoughts. I wished he would just break the silence! Stop lying to me and tell me, to my face, what exactly have you been arguing about with my mother all these years? What a coward! My fist clenched quickly and I dug my nails into my flesh, hoping to draw blood. The pain coursed through me as I tried to keep such poisonous words to myself. I throbbed in both mind and body. The rapid fire of a gun with a mission to end my misery would have to turn their backs and run. I bit my lip and felt myself lingering on a cliff. Looking back at the life I so desperately wished to erase, to leave behind such wretched memories, I push myself until I am falling. As I fall and feel the bile coming up, I know there is no turning back.

“I hate you.”