Shattered Images

My parents words fly across the room like knives, and it takes me back to when I was a kid. Running outside to be by my middle sister, who had gone out there to escape. I'm brought back to reality in a second, when the cats take off running into separate rooms. I go check on the both and ensure they're okay, speaking in comforting and gentle tones. It makes me wish I could do the same, for so many others who deal with far worse situations. Those who always appear to be "fine", when in truth they're just all shattered images.