Adults contact each other to compare the amount of rain in their rain gauges. Another of the 4,724 reasons I want to leave this town.
Weeks pass. Hamilton and I text or call each other daily. I'm about a month away from move-in day at college. I can't sleep. Tired of tossing and turning, I climb the stairs from the basement hoping not to see my mother. Walking through the living room, I spot a stranger sleeping on the sofa. Two empty bottles lie on the floor. Seems my mother didn't return home alone. I lock the bathroom door for privacy while I relieve myself. It's not bad enough I hide from my mother in my own home, now I have another to avoid. I tiptoe to the kitchen for water before returning to the safety of my bedroom. I don't dare make any noise—I don't want to deal with two drunks
