Rapid Fire

The pencil dropped and made a sound louder than and elephant, it was that quiet. It gets that quiet sometimes, right before the fight. Sometimes I cry, sometimes I don't. Is it supposed to make me change? Am I supposed to live the way he does? Why don't they just understand?
For the few quiet moments leading to the uproar.I have time to think. I think they do that on purpose. I think about what I'm going to say, what I did wrong, how to defend myself. I knew it was coming. I should have just said no. It wouldn't have come to this.
Here it comes. The sweat starts to build up behind the skin; the tears are already welling up in the eyes. I clutch to my necklace for some sort of support where I can be sure to find it. The questions are shot at me at the speed of a million bullets out of a machine gun. Oh no. I'm hit.
As I try to figure out what to say, the tears stream like the Nile River in the spring, and they don't stop. My hands are cold; I don't think I can feel my toes; the worst isn't even over.
Why did you have to lie about it, he asks, why didn't you just ask?
I-i-i didn't think you'd understand, I reply, I don't know what I was thinking.
You're right you didn't know what you were thinking, he bellows, you take advantage of me left and right, WHY?! When will it stop?! I never thought it could have been that bad.I never thought he could get that mad.I could have just stayed home.I didn't have to was just a little lie.I guess I should have seen it coming.