Excerpt From a Book I Will Never Write #2

"I don't want to go home," he said, refusing to meet my eyes. I leaned across the table and took his hands in mine, giving them a gently squeeze.

"Why?" I searched his face.

"Because I finally managed to escape," he answered. Sighing, he looked up and made eye contact with him. His normally lively blue eyes now seemed dull and tired like the deep ocean. "Everything- all the pain, the hate..."

He stopped and took his hands from mine. "Not that you would understand."

I sat back in my seat and sighed, placing my hands in my lap. "Yeah, I wouldn't know anything about that."

But I did. All too well. I could still hear the shouts and screams echoing in my head from the fights that happened all the time. The sounds of cursing and furniture breaking.

"You're right," I ran a hand through my hair. "I had a great homelife. Still do."

It was a lie but it rolled off my tongue like a truth. I hated how easy it was to lie now, like it was in my nature.

I straightened and looked at him. "Sorry."