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“I’m even looking for jobs.” Dad chirps in.

Mom sends me a pointed side-eye. “See? He’s trying.”

“In no time I’ll be on my feet, and you won’t have to work so hard, sweet.” He goes to her and pulls her into his arms. She leans into him as he plants kisses on the side of her neck and rubs her arms.

Clearing my throat I say, “I should leave.”

“Hope—”

I’m already out of the door and running down the street. Once I’m a few blocks away I stop and lean against the wall of an alley.

Dad is back.

He’ll be living with us.

The reality of the situation grazes and ruptures my entire breathing system. Air escapes my lungs like someone has punctured huge holes in the muscles.

My vision blurs. Objects and people dance in front of me like a hazy dream.

Holding onto the wall I inhale—it doesn’t help.

He is back.

He is going to hurt you.

This time things will be worse.

He’ll be onto you.

More fights and arguments.

He’ll choke you.

He’ll hit you.

He’ll—

The voices in my head get louder, drowning my own little voice that was assuring me before.Ican’thear it anymore. It’s gone. Instead, I keep hearing words that make me scared.

I’ve solved complex equations in Math, drawn difficult structures in Organic Chemistry, and practiced lengthy derivations in Physics, but I can’t think of a single thing to help me at this moment.

A trail of shivers travels down my backbone and the hairs on my back rise. I’m losing control because of my doubts and fears.

I’m not sure how to be okay.

A hand grips my wrist and tugs me. I try to slip out of the hold, but it tightens, not to the point of leaving a bruise, but enough to not let me get away.

“Hope, hey!” I hear a strong masculine voice that sounds familiar. I can’t pinpoint it.

Where have I heard it before?

“Hope, it’s me,” he says as his thumbs wipe away my tears.

Heath. I see him now. His face, hishandsomeface, is right in front of me.

“What’s fucking wrong?” he asks.

I can barely speak.

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