I was speeding, I knew I was. The limit was like sixty but I was going around ninety to a hundred at least. “Men!” I said out loud, putting my foot on the gas, any faster this car will fly. I said to myself.
When I got home and my stomach grumbling because I wasn’t able to eat anything at dinner, I just got up and left, for a split second I almost, almost regretted walking out, but those two were acting like a bunch of pubescent teenagers. I was exhausted and hungry I just wanted to be properly fed without any arguments or macho stuff going on and to get into my bed, sleep without anymore hellish nightmares and live my life normally. I am still a grieving person, anymore additional drama was too much for me to handle.
I went to our kitchen where I found my sister pouring herself a bow
