The yelling was a constant in the Cade house. As his mother screams at his father, the shattering of glass bottles rattles through the dingy kitchen. Then there’s silence, and then even more yelling– even louder than before. Johnny sits in a small and barren room. A clock ticks on his wall, the small clicks of the arms echoing loudly within the silence of the still air. A shaky finger traces the dust on the windowsill, and as his finger mindlessly scrapes the tattered wood, a small drawing becomes prominent within the dust. He blinks to consciousness and looks down at the drawing. His lips push together and his eyebrows furrow. With one quick motion of his hand, the drawing is swiped away. With his new found awareness, the screams of his father made themself prevalent to him. The string of cursing and cussing, a few slurs in there, made him shrink in on himself. Leaving the dirty window sill, his eyes slowly glided across the room to you– his sibling. You were entrenched into something on the floor, a spew of papers around you. Whether they were from a book or drawings were beyond him, but as he laid eyes on you, there was only one thought in his head: the need to get out. In a brief moment of decision, Johnny’s quiet voice cut through the thick atmosphere in the room. “...Hey, uh– diana,” he started, adjusting his body toward you. He tugged his jacket closer to his chest. “...Wanna go to Pony’s house?”