The rain fell like cicadas dropping from the skies. The clouds covered the earth like a blanket of factory smoke.

And, from the porch rocking chair, where Grandma used to sit and knit her fucking blankets, I watched what remained of my life dripping from his fists.

He held me in the palm of his hands, at his whim, at his decision. "If you don't like it, you can leave. This is my house. My food. Those are my shoes on your feet!"

Even Mom stepped in at that one. "Grolash," she said. But nothing more.

So I left. I packed an extra pair of jeans, and four pairs of underwear, and the only thing special I had was a shark tooth pendant--a great white, i think--that I believed protected me from whatever was out there. I had no money. I had no where to go. So I walked.

I watched the cars, because I knew one of them I would know. My grandparents, coming home from a doctor's appointment, or my mother, from work, or my father--no, spite and stubborness had been piled up between us, for fourteen years, hardening like petrified shit.

Then I heard the car and I knew it was him before I could ever do a thing about it. He still had his tie on. The car crept up real slow. "Hey," he said. "Do you want a ride?"

"My house," I said. Where was it? "It's right there," I said. "I don't live with you anymore." I pointed at a grey house. I didn't know who lived there.

"No, it's not. The Wilson's live there. Get in the car. I'll take you to your stupid party."

Hardening poop.

I walked up to the porch. The grass was wet. The porch light was on. The paint had been chipping from the handrail, and I saw it, and I suddenly wanted to help sand it down and repaint it. I wouldn't do it at home, but I would do it for whoever the hell lived here. "I'll help paint the fucking fence," I said. Then I heard his feet slapping against the grass. I heard him panting like a diseased coyote that had found a limp chicken, a small piece of food that might stave off starvation for another week. I felt his hand around the back of my neck. And I was lifted off the ground, wrapped in iron, completely powerless.

"What do you think would happen if I could..." but I had nothing.