My legs are drawn up to my chest and I've put my arms around them hugging them closer. I burry my face into my knees, making stars dance in front of my eyes. I'm in the furthest corner from my bedroom door, and the lights are off. I have my headphones in my ears, the music cranked up.

It doesn't block out the sound.

I try to sing along in hopes the words will take me somewhere else. Away from this bedroom; this house. Away from reality. It works for a little bit before a crash sounds and the house shakes slightly. I see my favourite teddy bear in the corner of my eye. He's not old, not a teddy bear I've had since I was little. Those are in the closet. He's new, only a few years old. I pull him to me and crush him between my legs and chest. It's immature and childish, but how I wish to be a child again. Too innocent to understand.

Mum's started crying again, bringing back past mistakes. Her face will get puffy.

Dad's screaming because he always loses control. His face will go all red.

It's my fault. They always tell the child that's no matter what, their parents fighting isn't their fault. That's a lie. I can hear my name being screamed from their lips every few moments. Mum a more hysterical tone to my name, Dad a more furious. Sometimes it's not my name. At least, not the one everyone knows me by. Dad likes to call me the names you'd never say in public.

A more quiet song comes on and I can hear their voice more clearly. It's still about me. Mum's saying there's something wrong with me, so it's not my fault. That makes me feel worse. There's always 'something wrong' with me. Dad screams back that it's just me. They say never to think you're a burden to your parents. I am. It's a fact.

A door slams. I wonder if it's Dad or Mum that left this time. They'll be back. They always do. I wonder why? Shouldn't it make more sense to stay away? There's sobbing, but I take that as a peaceful silence. Sometimes I like it better when their fighting with each other.

At least then they aren't screaming at me.