fear.

They both slam their doors at the same time. They didn’t know they were in sync, partly because they were indifferent houses, and partly because his father took away his phone. He was about to cry from the yelling, she already was.

Caught. They weren’t supposed to be seeing each other outside of their parent’s supervision, but where there is a will, there is a way. That way was impressively sneaky… but no one ever gets away with anything. Now they both are in their rooms and they begin to interact with their new friend, anger.

He kicks a CD case across the floor, sending it into the abyss under his bed. She texts him for the twelfth time without a response, the texts might as well be going into an abyss because that phone is sitting on the dining room table with his parents screaming at each other over it.

The screams bleed through his door and pierce his soul… he longs to hear from her, but they won’t let him. He hears talk of grounding, and even physical pain, but all he can think about is what had happened. What shouldn’t have happened

Her bed brought her no comfort as she landed on it and continued to cry, her pillow has seen too many tears, her soul has seen too much guilt. They use her little sister to shame her. “HOW COULD YOU LET HER HAVE AN EXAMPLE LIKE THAT?!” They go on for hours… until she can’t feel anymore… until she is numb.

They only feel the anger now. Together they clench their fists and wish, wish that they could tell their parents what had happened. If they could. If they could they would at least have advice and at most, they would have support. But they can’t.

He kicks a pillow this time because if he shows any anger to his parents they might keep his phone for good. You have to hide. You mustn’t let them see that you can feel. The pillow lands with a very unsatisfying light thud against the wall and it makes him growl.

“I miss you.”

If only they knew that they had said that at the same time… if only they could communicate. She calls him for the fifth time without a response and that was the last time that his father would tolerate it. He jumps when the phone smashes against the wall and turns towards the door. The tears start to flow and he whispers a few syllables.

“You have no idea…”

And with that, she finishes his thought, as if she could hear him.

“And you never will.”

A bad example huh? Her anger grows and the tears stop. She sits up and looks at the door trying to imagine what is on the other side of it. Her little sister is probably in bed and her parents are probably planning on how to cage her in her world until she becomes a good example. Or until they make an example.

To make an example, there would have to be something left to make an example of, but there isn’t anything. She gave all of herself to him, and he gave all of himself to her, and now she has a little miracle inside… only they can’t tell… anyone...

The thought dawns on them at the same time to overcome their fear and bust through their doors with courageous liberation. To let out the truth and the fact that they desperately need a parent and not a sentinel. They both stand facing the door and… then give up the courage.

“The window,” they both whisper then turn from the door. They turn from the door leading to their families. Deciding at the same time to reject their family’s rejection they walk to their windows. She unlocks it, he disconnects the alarm system before doing the same. With nothing more than the clothes on their backs, they make their way to each other.