when i got home, i didn't even have go inside the house to hear my parents screaming at each other. of course, mom was crying so loud, i'm sure they could hear her blocks down. dad's voice was so loud, i had no idea how anyone could stand it.
then, i walked inside, and they began yelling at me right away. at the time, i'd learned to just tune them out and retire to my room for the night, not caring what they had to say.
but that night was different. after that night, my family wasn't the same.
it's october 16th, 2012, the one year anniversary of my father's death, and i'm standing outside the massive house that i will have to call home from now on. no one at school knows the reason why i have a single mother who, now, might give a little more of a damn about me then before the accident happened.
that's what she calls it.
the accident.
i call it the murder, and i intend to keep it that way, because that's exactly what it was. that night, october 16th, 2013, mom had stabbed dad at least fifty five times with a kitchen knife, as far as the doctors could tell. now, she's left to rot in a jail cell while i was put into the care of a woman who fosters children of every age. she dedicates her entire life to it.
annabelle summers.
and that's how i met him.