You shut up.
You sound just like your father.
Do you want to be like him?
No you shut up.
Don’t fucking talk to me.
I hate you.
She stands tall and threatening in the mother’s face.
Do you want to be like your mother?
You act just like her.
You’re right that is enough. Fuck you.
I’m outta here.
You’re such an asshole.
She nearly misses the father’s face and punches through a glass window.
She is twelve.
She hopes to never be like either one of them.
Misery seeps from their skin and lives in their blank stares.
Do they think their misery is unseen or that the hate just cuts through each other?