My stomach churned and I quickly rammed the other earplug in before firing up the old discolored Discman. Fumbling with the buttons, I pressed PLAY and turned the volume up to maximum level, praying the batteries had enough juice left in them to block out the hell that was my home. Clicking onto the loudest, hardest metal track on the CD, I lay back on my pillow and remained perfectly still, body rigid and coiled tight with tension. Four songs in and my heartbeat returned to normal rhythm. Three more songs and the ability to form coherent thoughts returned. It wasn’t always like this.
So relatable it hurts.
