"Why are you leaving Dad, this is our house," I heard Mike say through gritted teeth. "I know you're hurt but this is not the way to go about it."
"Son, you don't understand," Mr. Hawk sighed.
Mike was not buying it, and as he stared at his father with the door wide open behind him, he shook his head. "That's f*****g ridiculous Dad, you're running away." Mike had been in his room smoking a blunt with his window opened when he heard heavy footsteps head towards the door. He found it strange, since the early mornings were not usually greeted by anybody within the home, and instantly threw the end of his
"I'm not running away okay?" His eyes were baggy, large purple bruises underneath them. I listened from the top of the stairs, hiding in a corner as they argued. "I'm trying to figure it
