Mom thinks I'm anorexic.

I don't think so.

I'm not trying to lose weight,

But I guess it looks like it.

I'm practically skin and bones.

There are more days when I hole up in my room than days when I eat.

I don't want to eat dinner.

I don't want to go out there.

I don't want to see fighting.

I don't want to see them throw bowls at each other,

Screaming heartfelt expletives, eyes glowing with ugly hatred.

Sometimes, Dad flips over the dinner table,

The mass of wood just barely missing my brothers,

And throws down his food before stomping out of the room.

Sometimes, Mom threatens to brain him with the rice cooker,

Her face beet red with rage and scary as hell.

I've seen Mom cry once,

After Dad ran out the first time.

To this day,

It's still the scariest thing she had ever done,

Scarier than when she threw a ladder at me.

Because

That's when I lost my stability in this world.

I was scared shitless,

But I got up on my trembling legs, like a freaking baby deer on its first steps,

Knelt (more like collapsed to my knees) beside Mom,

And wiped the tears off.

Sometimes, they turn their fury on us.

So far they've only yelled at us.

I could take the scolding, I would,

But, then, they lose interest in us and turn on each other again,

A neverending cycle.

I'm sorry if I'm being selfish,

I'm sorry if I'm being oversensitive,

I'm sorry.

But I don't want to eat dinner.

I'd rather starve than I go out of my room.

I'm such a damn coward, but I don't want to see anymore.

It's gotten to the point when the smell of food makes me sick.

I don't want food.

I'm...

Sorry.


If you're a decent parent, thumbs up. I don't know you, but I love ya already. Keep it up. Sorry if I scared you.

If you are/were a kid in a dysfunctional family, you're not alone. Hope you find happiness. If you haven't already.

A lovely present and future to you.