> I didn't go to school that day.
I was sick — in body, yes. But more than that… I was tired.
Not just sleepy.
But soul-tired.
The kind of tired that even sleep can't fix.
It wasn't the first time.
I've never taken a test for insomnia — never had a doctor nod at a clipboard and say "Yes, it's official."
But I don't need a diagnosis to know I don't rest.
My nights are long.
My mind never shuts off.
And that morning, I hadn't slept at all.
---
I was still in bed when the shouting started.
My parents — again.
It wasn't rare. Fights happened.
But this one sounded deeper.
Lower.
More dangerous.
You know the kind — where words aren't just weapons, they're warnings.
---
I didn't know what caused it.
But this time… he wasn't just angry.
He was done.
And then I heard it.
Clearly.
Loud enough to burn into memory:
> "Get her out of here. Right now. You and that girl — get out of my house!"
He didn't say her name.
He didn't say mine.
But I knew who he meant.
Not them.
Not the others.
Just me.
Like always — it was me.
---
> That's the moment that split something in me.
I wasn't being punished for misbehaving.
I wasn't being shouted at for making a mistake.
I was being removed.
Like a thing.
Like trash.
Like an outsider who'd finally overstayed.
And I was sick.
I was lying in bed with a burning body, a spinning head —
and still, the person I called Dad wanted me gone.
---
Not my brothers.
Not my younger siblings.
Me.
The one with the tired eyes.
The one who kept secrets.
The one who lied for love.
The one who'd already heard whispers that she didn't belong.
> And now it wasn't a whisper anymore.
It was a command.
---
I don't remember if my mom said anything.
Maybe she did. Maybe she didn't.
Maybe she was just as tired as I was —
of defending me to the people who were supposed to love me without question.
But that moment… it stayed.
> That moment made every room feel temporary.
Made every hug feel borrowed.
Made me feel like even my bed had conditions.
---
> I learned that day that "home" wasn't where you sleep.
It's where you're allowed to stay.
And I was never really sure again if I was.
---