I didn’t want to leave, my hand was on the bed and I wanted to just cling to it and never let go. The words were just at the tip of my tongue, wanting to scream and kick until he let me go. My smile had dropped the moment he had woken me up and told me that we were going back home.
“Home where?” I had asked out of nowhere. I did not have a home, I had a prison that had its walls close in on me every day I spent there. I had never hated a house so much. I hated it, I hated my life and I could just feel the depression creep back in.
My eyes stayed on the door, feeling the tears just creep up. He went to have a meeting with his stuff and as soon as he came back, we would be off. I had heard the chopper land on the ship and it had just been as clear as day that the honey moon was over.
