get out.

oh god, did we have to do this here ? now ? a burning sensation exploded in my head before i realized my mother had slapped me. tears sprang to my eyes -- more from shock than pain. "you don't understand." i moved toward her. she hit me again, harder, and i stumbled out into the kitchen, my hip ramming the counter. my dad just sat at the table, quietly watching.she charged me, pounding on my back. "mom !" i tried to fend her off, but couldn't. she was insane. then he got up and grabbed her from behind and said, "that's enough. we don't need to get violent here." she yelled at me, "i didn't raise you to disappoint me !" she made it sound like i was the filthiest thing on the planet. i reached for her, trying to calm her, to explain to her. she broke free from his grip and charged me. hit me again; just started slapping and punching my face and arms and anywhere her hands connected. he wedged between us, trying to block her blows. trying to. "you disgust me !" she screamed.

she said to him, "i want her out of here."
so he turned to me and said, "you'd better go."
"go ? go where ?" i asked.
"go to hell," she answered.
"but mom --"
"go," she shrieked. "get out, get out, get. out !"
"can i at least pack some stuff ?"
"two minutes."
to him she said, "i want her out of this house in two minutes."

her face was so purple i thought she'd explode. he widened his eyes at me. my stomach churned as i charged up the stairs. what was i going to do ? pack. pack what ? two minutes ? i unzipped my duffel bag and started shoveling things in. everything on my dresser came off in one swipe. what else ? clothes. the drawers were crammed; i'd never be able to pack it all. my closet, too. shoes. there was no room for shoes. "you have one minute," she shrilled up the stairs.i grabbed as much as i could carry; heard items dropping on the floor as i charged down the stairs. i felt humiliated and helpless and shaken. she wrenched open the door. then slammed it shut behind me. i staggered down the driveway. walked. just walked. i was trembling and cold and my bag kept slipping off my shoulders. my chest hurt, my cheek burned. my hip throbbed. my cell in the bottom of my bag rang, i think. everything was ringing. my ears, still, from her screaming. i couldn't breathe, couldn't see.

for the next couple of days, the trees and the grass became my constant companions. i decided to stop by the house. if nothing else for more clothes, for the cash in my secret stash. i couldn't keep borrowing money from people. her car was parked in the driveway. my pulse quickened. maybe when she saw me, remembered who i was... the back door was locked, so i dug out my house key and inserted it into the keyhole. it didn't fit. i don't know how long i stood there, in denial. she was on the couch, behind the curtain. i could see her silhouette. she saw me, i know she did. the outline vanished. the message sank in.