It's Just A Word

“I hate you!” I screamed at my parents from the top of the stairs.

“If you hate us so much then maybe you shouldn’t live here anymore.” My mother said.

“Fine, I’m leaving then.” I snapped.

“Good! Go, right now!” I started walking up my stairs to my room to pack a bag. We’ve been doing this for the last three years of my life. At least once a month we would get into a fight like this, and then I would leave for the night and come back in the morning. Everything would be fine. I packed my bag with some clothes and started down the stairs. “I’m serious this time, London. If you leave now you will not be allowed back.”

“Whatever.” I said as I rolled my eyes. “I’m tired of living here anyways.”

“Fine, I hope you have a good life.” My mother said sarcastically as she slammed the door once I walked out.



I came back to my house the next day, after school, to find the door locked. That’s weird. I thought. My parents never locked the door. They never saw the point. We had an alarm anyways. I grabbed my keys out of my jean pockets and tried sticking it in the keyhole. It didn’t work though and I stood there confused.

“What the hell?” I mumbled to myself. “Why’d they change the lock?” I sighed and went and sat on our stone steps. I guess I’d just have to wait for one of them to get home. Hopefully my dad got here first, he was much easier to get him to do things for me.

It was almost five o’clock when I saw a car pull up into the drive-way. I had been sitting there for almost three hours and it was lightly raining. I groaned as I saw my mom walk up to the steps.

“Hey mom.” I smiled, like nothing had happened last night. As long as I pretended it didn’t exist then it didn’t.

“What are you doing here?” She said as she unlocked the door. I went to follow her into the house, but she turned around so she was blocking the doorway.

“I’m coming home.”

“No you aren’t. I kicked you out.”

I laughed lightly and rolled my eyes. I started picking at my nails, like it wasn’t a big deal. “Mom, we do this every month. It’s not any different.”

“I said that if you left you weren’t allowed back. I was one hundred percent serious. So you aren’t coming back here. This is not your home anymore.”

“Mom, you can’t be serious.” I said, scared that I would not have a home anymore. I could feel my eyes starting to water.

“Well, I’m not kidding, so I must be serious.” She snapped as she turned around to close the door.

“Mom!” I cried.

“I’m sorry London, but you made this decision.” She then shut the door in my face, and I was homeless in that second.