Dior
I come home to an abandoned house. Most of our furniture has been removed and taken out of the rooms. Even my parent's collection of crying clown paintings and the weird dog statues are gone. The flower pots are emptied, shoes removed from the hallway, the lamp doesn't go on, and the walls seem taller than before.
"Did they... Leave me?" I ask no one in particular.
I take a moment to regain my breathing and drop my bag of football equipment as I stare at the floor, which seems to crumble beneath my feet. Every fight and every battle I had with my parents—it all comes back to haunt me until I stand there, feeling like I'm not enough.
How could they do this to me?
Loneliness wraps me up like a blanket. It becomes harder to breathe without sharp pain slicing me apart. My eyes are bl
