Two months before graduation I came home to find the front door cracked open. I noticed a broken bottle of whiskey laid against the wall with blood on the shattered broken shards. I became very anxious and told myself everything is fine they probably just had another fight.

No big deal right?

Well it was true that my mother and father had yet another brutal fight but this time my mother was nowhere to be found and her stuff was missing. I continued to walk to the back dining room area but saw only a chair that had fallen over. I then approached the living room.

Empty. I think nothing of it and go to my room.

As I’m walking past father’s bedroom, I notice the door is slightly cracked; I then see him laying on the ground. I start panicking, and my heart starts racing because I can see lots of blood.

All I can think is, “Fuck mother what have you done this time! OH MY GOD!” I fall to my knees and call out to him hoping he’s somewhat conscience to hear me.

“Dad are you awake?! Can you hear me?!”

I mumble and notice my voice and body starting to shake without my consent.. I try to nudging him to see if he’ll wake up.

“Dad I need you to talk to me, please! Wake up!”

All I could do is panic and rush to the hall to grab my cellphone to call mother.

Nothing. Dead dial tone. This is fucked up.

She’s not answering, meaning she’s probably ignoring me. I continue to ponder what the hell actually happened in here and call 911 to tell them what happened.

Later the next day at the hospital the doctor tells me if I hadn’t found my father sooner he would have died. He overdosed on prescription medication. I wasn’t even all that surprised. From what I’ve pieced together mother and father must of started fighting again over something stupid, but this time it ended very badly.

I sit beside father’s bed watching him sleep. Tears start to well up because I’ve realized the man I was looking at was hurting inside. I can’t quite explain the feeling I’m getting at this exact moment. All I know is that it’s heartbreaking. I told myself that I hated them so much, for everything bad they had ever done to me. But, at that moment I wanted to hug him.

He seemed so peaceful while he slept. I honestly have never seen this sight of him before because most of the time he never looked at me. When he did, his eyes were like daggers stabbing the anxiety through me.

I continue to sit and hold his hand for a while praying that he will be okay. I know that I shouldn’t, I have no reason to be the nice guy in this situation, but, I do. For some reason I believe he needed a little salvation. Even from himself.

To my surprise I try to put myself in someone’s shoes. If I were in this situation I might feel helpless too because I didn’t know the right things to say or do. He may feel like this because of mother. I know he isn’t the complete bad guy, but he may have been forced to keep his pride as a man. I knew nothing of this man and I didn’t care before.

— — —

It’s one month before my graduation when I receive a text from a random number. It was mother. It reads:

503-***-3447: Hello, this is mother, I. wont be coming back home. I also can’t make it to your graduation. I hope you understand. I left you some money in an envelope in your desk. I hope that can help you get by for a while. I don’t know when we will see each other again. I wanted to apologize for everything but I know that will not make up for the terrible things I’ve done and said.

Best regards, Mom.

Reading the text makes me all sorts of emotional. I refuse to message her back because why the hell would I! FUCK! I throw my phone straight at the wall and lock my bedroom door shut. Out of impulse I begin cutting the inner part of my thigh with a safety pin I find on my bookshelf. I don’t know what has come over me but suddenly I feel every emotion flood my mind all at once. It’s too fucking much.

I am furious.

I am hurting.

I am anxious.

I am in deep.

This bitch really believed she could just leave and expect my life to be normal. Something snapped inside of me that’s never before. As the red trickles down my thigh, I feel stronger. The burning of the pin scratching my pale olive skin feels disturbingly enlightening.

I’m embarrassed and grossed out by myself because I rarely let myself get to this point. When I did this it was because I was out of my own mind, dazed, just going at it. I hated myself for this but I couldn’t stop myself.

I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE. I CAN’T BE HERE IN THIS TOWN, OR THIS HOUSE.

I know life itself didn’t do this to me. The devil bitch herself did. She ruined any hope of stability in my life. Tonight I cry tears until they dry up. I tell myself to breathe, and calm down, but its so damn hard. Once I’m calmed down I find the money stashed away.

It was true.

All the money was there. The whole twenty grand of it, on a single sheet of paper written in mothers horrible handwriting. I’m shocked. Where could she possibly gotten this much money? I honestly don’t want to know. Part of me feels that receiving this kind of money is dirty.

I suddenly realize what I have to do. I decide that I will take the money and save it. I will move away, far away from this place and go to school. I don’t think I have any talent for anything in particular, but I wanted to survive this life doing something.

Anything.