A Broken Home is Still a Shelter to Some

If walls could talk, I'm sure we would have a lot to say. If I had to guess, it was summer when they moved in. She chose my room immediately. Not to brag, but I did have double closets and bay windows across the room. Her bed was in front of me, large silver posts covering a third of me, with posters of her favorite bands and movies filling the rest. It made me feel important, so I didn't mind. About a year later I saw her first real fight with her parents. I'm not sure what it was about but she slammed the door, which didn't feel great. She cried for a while that night. If only I could have said something to make her feel better.

The nights seemed to stay relatively calm for a while, and before I knew it, she was a teenager starting high school. I even got a makeover too. I got a black and purple paint job, which felt good since the white and blue paint was getting old. She took the posters down, replacing them with pictures and drawings. I couldn't see them but I'm sure they were lovely. One thing I've noticed is she and a friend of hers spend a lot of time here. She likes to come in the window sometimes. They seem to like each other. Every week I see them more and more. They even kissed the other day. She is so happy; I love it when she's happy.

Today when she came home from school, her parents were waiting for her. It was easy to hear since the door was open. Her parents were asking about her friend. They were saying how she's a bad influence and that "no daughter of mine will be dating someone like that". They said she wasn't allowed back in this house again. I didn't understand, she seemed so happy. Why would they do this to her? She came into the room and punched a hole right through me, which hurt quite a bit, I knew she was upset. She's been spending a lot of time in here lately. Taking turns between crying and sleeping. If only I could say something to make her feel better.

Today she came home early, which was odd. She is usually home at 3:13, I know because of the clock on the other wall, but it was 12:44. Her mom asked what happened at school and she just said the girls at school did this to her books and locker. I had trouble making out the words scribbled on her books. "Whore" and "queer" don't seem like good words to call someone. If only I could say something to make her feel better.

She's been sneaking in through the window a lot lately, avoiding anyone at all costs. Any form of connection is met with a fierce and pained "go away" or "leave me alone". It seems like they want to help but they just don't know how. They don't know her; not like I do. This routine was maintained for some time until a persistent knock was at the door. Her mother said there was an accident. Her friends' mom called, but she didn't make it. She was in shock, not knowing how to react. I didn't know how to react either. She loved her, I know she did. Even though everyone hated her for it. Without her here, she had nothing. She didn't leave the room for a long time after that day. Her mom would bring her food and water, though she wouldn't eat. I learned a broken heart has no appetite. After a while, she stopped crying. it seemed like days passed without her saying a word. One day, however, I saw her get up from her bed to write something on her desk. She was crying again. Afterward, she walked out of the room. That was the last time I saw her.

If walls could talk, I know I would have. I would have told you about the bountiful love that you still had left. I would have told you about the unbridled joy waiting for you. I would have said that even though the world is full of hate and fear, there is also love, wonder, and excitement just around the corner. I would have told you about the beauty beyond me. You won't see that now. You felt it was too much.

You let the pain in for just a little too long. You let it take hold, it consumed you. I hope you knew I was always here for you, even though you may not have realized it. If walls could talk, you know I would have, but when you talked, and the world ignored you, I listened.