The endless screaming. Every night. No hope. Nothing ever changes. After school she doesn't go home. She stays away as long as possible. But then curfew's up. Time for the dreaded homeward drive. She pulls up into the driveway. Daddy's still not home. Mommy's at work until midnight tonight. She goes inside, takes a few shots of vodka, then goes to that computer for a break from reality. Headlights shine through the window. The door flings open, then slams shut. Hard boots pound the stairs. Quick, turn down the music. Too late. The office door swings open. "Turn that shit off!! Right now!! What the hell is that!! There's dishes piled in the sink and you just come back to your fucking computer!! Get the hell off!!" The door shuts ferociously. Whew! Just a nice verbal assault. How relieving.

She goes to do the dishes. He comes to the kitchen, searching in the fridge, no doubted for his precious beer. "What the fuck did you do with my beer!! You fucking whore!! You drank it all, didn't you!! Fucking drunken skank!!" He walked over and slapped her in the face. She cowers and backs into the corner, covering her face, trying to hide the tears. "Get up and take it like the slut you are!!" The alcohol seeping through his whole body. She grabs a glass and throws it at him, trying to get him away just long enough for her to make a run for her car. Nope. Sorry. She's fucked now. "What the hell!! What'd you think that would accomplish, huh!!" Another blow, only this time it wasn't open-fisted. Another blow. Another blow. Another blow. Another blow. He grabs her ponytail, drags her from her safe corner, and throws her against the floor cabinets. She whimpers in despair. Bad idea. "Oh, you think that hurts!!" He then proceeded to kick her. Over and over and over and over again. She finally can crawl to the living room. She was going for the stairs. "Oh, hell no!!" He grabs her leg, pulls her across the carpet, and kicks her once more. "You get back in there and finish the goddamn dishes, you lazy, spoiled, bratty piece of shit!!" He goes downstairs.

She slowly makes her way back to the kitchen. The immense pain making it quite difficult. She can at least stand now. She started doing the dishes again. She remembered the sweet spirits just waiting for her to take another drink. She downed half the bottle this time. She continued with the dishes. Then that pounding made her freeze. He was coming back upstairs. She glanced into the sink, noticing the steak knives they had used the night before. He staggered across the living room into the kitchen. He ran into the open dishwasher, cussing like never before. "You did that on purpose, didn't you!!" She was trying to stifle a laugh. He heard it. "You better not be fucking laughing!!" He slapped her. That made the laugh disappear. She was so fucking sick of this. This had become a daily routine for them. He wouldn't come home until at least 10 pm when he got off work at 4:30 to go to the bar. Somehow they got into a fight, and she just ended up at the receiving end of every punch, kick, shove, and hit. This had to stop! Right now! It ends this instant. She reached into the sink, grabbed the knife, and got ready to use it against him. "Ooh, what'cha gonna do with that, huh? Rid the world of the slutty little burden you've become? Huh?" That's it. Wouldn't it be worse for him if she died, instead of him. ... More headlights.

Mommy's home. She walks in, obviously hasn't had a good day. "Have you two been fighting again??" Mommy always knew. "Just do the damn dishes and tell your father you're sorry for whatever you did."

"What I did!! I did jackshit!! I didn't do anything!! Why do you always take his side!! Do you not know what he does?? I know you do. He's done it to you, too. Maybe, just maybe, if he was sober, he'd stop! But, NO! He can't just stay sober, he has to go waste all our money on his booze and cigarettes! His example is just begging to be followed!" She screamed, in hopes of getting through to her mother. Her mom just got a twisted look of hate on her face, walked over, and slapped her. Grabbed her by her messy ponytail, threw her against the wall, and just slapped the hell out of her. With nails, nonetheless. She finally just snapped. She let out a fierce scream, her mom then wailing in pain because it hurt her ears. She jumped at her mom. Hitting her, over and over and over. She couldn't take her dad, but her mom. She could do whatever she felt like with her mom. She just hit and scratched and pulled her hair, consider it returning the favor. She just pounded her, taking everything out on her. Then daddy came to the rescue. They pushed her down the stairs. Then threw her into her room. She was grounded for a month. She wasn't allowed out of her room the rest of the night. For any reason. ... They never bothered to check on her. Daddy passed out on the couch, and mommy fell asleep.

The next morning, mommy went downstairs to go wake up her lovely daughter. The door was locked. Mommy woke up daddy. Daddy picked the lock, won't get into how he knew that skill. What they found will last with them until the end of time. Her room was spotless. She had cleaned everything. It was perfect. Everything in place. No hidden messes. The room sparkled. And there she was, laying on her bed, sound asleep. "You little shit! How many times have we told you never lock this fucking door!!" Mommy yelled. She didn't even flinch. They went to pull the covers from her. On the other side of the heavy comforter, they noticed an odd discoloration. The entire blanket was vermilion. How odd. They turn her onto her stomach. Her throat was slashed. Her wrists were split from her elbows to her palms. But a smile was posed on her face. A message was written on the blood-stained wall. "RID THE WORLD." Mommy noticed the new ledge. There were razorblades, knives, and safety pins all over the room. All of which had crimson edges. She always kept her "tools," and always made sure the blood dried. Every time she cut, she kept it with her. Now her pain was on display for the ones who should've cared the most. Her bruised emotions were finally known. She was a razorblade junkie who never let her scars show. They claimed they watched her, but never saw anything. She was lost, but now found through her precious razorsharp kisses.