Home. We’re home. I didn’t need to open my eyes. I knew we were home. I knew we were getting close. I had memorized the roads leading from the highway back to the house nestled in the little neighborhood I called home. Home to all the isolation I received from my classmates. Home to the loneliness of being alone. But tonight, I let the feelings go. I let the warmness of the familiarity envelop me as our car drifted down the road toward home.
Miami. I need a flight to Miami. I couldn't stand the cold anymore. It was the beginning of January, the home of freezing temperatures and perpetually gray skies.
I had woken up in the middle of the night, craving cinnamon rolls. So, there I was, at 3 in the morning, dragging myself to the grocery store, still dressed in my fuzzy dinosaur pajamas.
You hope for my demise,
but I refuse to fall.
You push me,
but I refuse to stay down.
You want to see me broken,
but I refuse to give you the satisfaction.
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