Little trigger warning rq
 I stared blankly at my parents as they fought, their words melding together into something nonsensical. If I focused enough, I could take their hateful shouts and turn them into garbled sounds and sometimes I could even drown them out with a roaring in my ears. It didn’t always work, but it helped to stem the flow of words being thrown around like bladed boomerangs. That is until my name was said, which always snapped me from my focus.
I was wrenched from my head by the sharp snap of my mother’s voice, her tone shrill and cruel. “Enoli, I know you can see that we’re busy. What the fuck do you want, boy?” Her dark brown eyes weren’t lucid. She never drank or smoked, but anger could get you on a different kind of train. One I knew well and did my best to stay off the tracks of.
It took me too long to reply, and she snapped a finger in front of my face, forcing a flinch from me. “Answer, or go to your room you disrespectful brat.” My father watched wordlessly, and I kept my eyes carefully away from his. Meeting his gaze would invite him into the interaction and that was the last thing I wanted.
“My apologies, I just wanted to see where you were. I’ll go now.” My own voice sounded inflectionless to my ears. Dead. It was the safest tone to take, and after years of instinctively crafting myself into an empty and quiet child, it had become everything I was. After all, I’d learned the rest of the world favored a quiet child over one that spoke.
I didn’t waste any time getting away from my seething mother. She didn’t give me even a cursory look as I left. She just turned her attention back to my father to keep yelling at him. I quickly tuned it out so their words wouldn’t cloud my head. It was better that way.
I strode down the hall and into my room, twisting around to close the door silently and lock it just as quick. My room was one of the only places I could escape. Providing my family didn’t suddenly remember they had a child. It happened often. They would leave for weeks and come back at random when one of them realized they had a kid at home. I didn’t even know where they went half the time, just that they weren’t there. Over the years, I had never bothered to learn where they went.
I dropped my backpack on the floor and slumped on my bed. The moment my ass touched the mattress, the room grew blurry and suddenly my chest felt too tight. I’d felt the impending attack the moment I’d left Ethan and stepped foot into my house. Just the sight of my parents had sent my pulse skyrocketing into oblivion. They never brought me a sense of relief or joy, just intense anxiety of what I’d do wrong next to upset them. Seemed this time it was exist too close to their fight.
I braced my elbows on my knees and dipped my head between my spread legs, breathing shallowly. It felt like my heart was hammering in my ears and rattling around inside of my skull. The room felt too small and my skin too tight. Should have just kept walking. Shouldn’t have looked at them you stupid fool. You know what happens when you give them attention.
I squeezed my eyes shut before the room started to spin, gripping my hair with my fists so hard it hurt. Good, the pain was grounding. Instead of letting my mind take me into a vicious downward spiral, I focused on the pain of my hair being torn from the follicles. I tugged harder, biting my lip as the pain shot down my spine and brought tears to my eyes. Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid you’re always at fault why can’t you just do anything right she’s right you’re a worthless thing-
I gave my hair a vicious tug, gasping from the pain. But it was just what I needed to yank myself out of the spiral. I dug my nails into my scalp until I broke the skin, using the pain. Use the pain, use the pain, use the pain. It worked. The room stopped spinning behind my eyes and my chest loosened. I took deep, shaky breaths until I could slow my heart rate again.
Once I felt calm enough, I opened my eyes and looked around the room, counting posters and books until my hands stopped shaking. I stood up and slowly untangled my hands from my hair. I stared at the blood crusting my nails detachedly. After watching the blood dry for far too long, I rubbed my hands on my pants to wipe it off then tapped my head to test the damage.
It wasn’t that bad. As long as I didn’t mess with my hair too much or scrub too hard when I showered, it should be fine. I exhaled slowly, then bent down to pick up my backpack and sift through it. I had work to do. I still had to pass high school.
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