I can hear my sister screaming through the door.

It swings open and I duck inside the cave of waste, otherwise known as home.

I told my mom I would babysit while she and dad spent their 30th anniversary screwing ,

in some cheap motel.

So here I am.

(the cracks between bathroom tiles filled with mildew,

and dirty dishes and the smell of cat poo,

there's no place like home.)

My brother and sister are fighting over who's turn it is to use the bong.

Unfortunately, our family's never done well financially,

so they had to pool a month's worth of allowance between them just to buy the thing.

"Ok you guys, who had it last?" I ask.

My 13-year-old brother points a grubby finger at my 10-year-old sister.

"She's been smoking for hours, and I just got it the last fucking 10 minutes and now she wants it back... IT's NOT FUCKING FAIR!"

I sigh "Okay, sis, you gotta learn to share, sweety" I say.

Then I grab it from her, smiling. "Now it's my turn."

Both of them protest, something like "I'm telling mom when she gets home! You're supposed to be babysitting not hogging our toys, you bitch! This is so unfair, blah fuckin' blah..." I ignore them, and inhale the sweet beauty of our family's favorite herbal remedy;

And smile as all the filfth of our reality evaporates like a dream upon waking.

And now I know this state is the truth, the reality, everything else is...

A nightmare, some kind of horrible unreality I don't have to think about right now.

For a few minutes, I can be oblivious to the fact that soon

all this misery will come back into focus:

The yelling and whining of my sister and brother,

the horrible odor, and the bleak visual appearance of our home.

But right now it all blurs together into a melodic and peaceful background hum;

And I am home again.