I sit on my cold hard chair, staring at the clock praying for it to simply stop. I always dread this time of day; I would have to leave the one place where my only worry was my education. I hear my classmates excited about the end of the school day, and their plans that evening; why couldn’t that be me? I longed for that feeling of going home to family that was happy to see me. As I exited the main doors of my elementary school, I decided that home could wait and that a quick visit to my grandparent’s house would be my big plans for the night. My mother’s siblings who still resided there would ask about my day; and grandpa loved hearing all the new things I learned. He had sympathy for me, they all did. Along with the sun that began to fall, my fears started to drift away; and all that was on my mind was the delicious smells coming from the kitchen. Here was the place where I felt apart of a family, we would all unwind together in the living room after our long days, and would all sit down to a peaceful family dinner. But most of the time, my nights ended the same way. As I got comfortable on my grandparents sofa or just about anywhere, and the house was calm, there would be a harsh knock coming from the front door. My heart would drop as fast as I could blink, my eyes would widen, and my breathing increased. My calm, peaceful night was about to turn ugly.

As the door swung open to reveal the incoming guest, I would not be surprised just felt