My “mom” called me down for dinner three times before telling me I could come down when I was ready. I was scared when the man broke into our house, I was scared when my mom screamed at me to run, and I was scared when I watched her head get crushed. But when I walked into the house and heard her voice, I was terrified.

Either I didn’t see my mom die and I am having a nervous breakdown, or she did die but somehow is still alive. The options weren’t good either way. If I was having a breakdown it would explain why the guy had no face. Maybe I never called the police? There was no police tape outside of the house when I got home.

I took the ticket from my pocket and moved it around in my hands.

If I was having a nervous breakdown, how did I get this ticket? I must’ve gone somewhere. The bus and the town had to be real. People don’t make bus tickets when they’re breaking down, do they?

“Stella?” My mom called from the stairs.

“I’ll be right down,” I called back. It was hard to raise my voice above a whisper. I cleaned more tears from my face before forcing myself out of bed and putting my boots on. For a moment I considered jumping out of my window and making a run for it. I wasn’t sure if I could land that fall without breaking my neck.

The possibility that my mom being murdered was all in my head was looming over me. I felt sick to my stomach, I tried to replay her death as many times as I could in my head, but every time I thought about it, it just made me cry.

I opened my bedroom door and walked down the stairs as slowly as possible. By the time I got to the kitchen, I was trying to move in slow motion.

“Stella, you look pale.” My mom pointed out as she watched me enter the kitchen. I sat down at the table and looked at the bowl of pasta and garlic bread in front of me. I took a second to look around, the window behind the counter was still broken. It couldn’t have all been in my head.

“The food smells good,” I told my mother as I twisted the fork to take a small bite. I barely raised the fork because my hand was shaking so badly that it would be extremely noticeable.

“Thank you, dear.” She said as she started eating with me.

I don’t think I have ever been so uncomfortable in my life. Listening to this woman slurp down her spaghetti was making my skin crawl. Once she smacked her lips together I nearly jumped out of my seat.

“Mom?” I asked as I picked at the food. I didn’t dare try the bread, my mom had never once made garlic bread. She would always tell me it made the house stink too much.

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“Yeah?” She responded without looking up from her plate. When she took a bite of the garlic bread her lips smacked so much I thought I was going to puke.

“How did dad die?” I asked her as I watched my pasta.

I could hear her fork hit the plate, I glanced up to meet her eyes. It was like looking into the eyes of a glass doll, this woman was not my mom.

“Go to your room.” She snapped at me.

I slid my chair out from the table, my whole body was tense.

“Go to your room! You spoiled bitch!” The woman screamed at me. I held my breath all the way upstairs, when I got to my room I closed the door as softly as possible and searched for my wallet.

I grabbed the wallet from my dresser and moved my desk chair to rest under my doorknob. Once that was finished I took two bags and a backpack out of my closet. I was moving as fast as I could to pack anything I wanted to take with me. For a moment I considered calling the police but I didn’t know what I would say. I grabbed all of the spare cash from my closest and finished packing my bags. I made sure to take a pillow and my blanket, plus a few luxury items because I knew I would need something to keep me occupied. The only thing I couldn’t find was my cell phone.

I slowly opened my bedroom window and glanced down. I was hoping my phone would be near the kitchen window. The drop wasn’t too far but was far enough to make me nervous. I stopped moving completely when I heard the shower turn on. It was the best chance I was going to have to leave without a fight.

I tossed my bags out of the window and slowly stepped out. I grabbed the ledge as tightly as I could and dropped, my ankle rolled, but luckily I had my bags to break the rest of my fall. I knew my landing like this must’ve made a lot of noise.

I slowly got up and stumbled for a second before grabbing my bags and speed walking towards the kitchen window. I crouched down when I heard my mother, she was sitting there sobbing. I had never heard her cry like that before. I tried to move as slowly as possible and check the surrounding area. When I saw my yellow phone case I quickly grabbed it and crouched around the house until I felt it was safe to stand up.

I couldn’t help but wonder who was in the shower if my mom was in the kitchen the whole time.

I broke into a run when I got to the front of the house. I could hear the front door swing open and slam the side of the house. My ankle was killing me but I didn’t care. I was not as fast as before but I still had a great time at the bus stop.

“Stella!” My mom screamed from behind me.

“Stella!” She cried out, this time making sure to draw out my name for as long as possible.

There was a moment when I wondered if I was making the right choice. It wasn’t too late to turn around and go home. But once I saw the bus stop my choice became clear, I ran right to it, and just like it did last time, the bus came down the street right on time.

“Brought bags this time?” The driver asked me with a sad smile. He could probably tell that I was once again running away from something.

“Yeah,” I said as I took a seat and watched the man close the door. I felt weirdly at ease on this bus and if I could’ve I would’ve chosen to make it my home.

“Ravenswood?” He asked me as he started driving.

“Yes,” I said as I put my head back and let a few tears run down my face. I knew I was going to fall asleep and this time I welcomed the reprieve from the insanity it felt like I was constantly facing.