[ WP ] Write a story about one of your fears .

My eyes are barely open as I pull into the driveway. It had been another long day. It had been for last ten years. 
 
 I lock the car and make my way into the house. I pay the babysitter ( thank goodness it's summer ) and start to work on dinner. The house is almost silent, save for the sound of the cat. Probably chasing a dust bunny again. I really need to clean this house. 
 
 I barely notice as another car pulls in. He walks in, quietly, and carefully shuts the door. Finally, he's learned that not to slam it. It reminds me too much of my past. 
 
 `` How was your day sweetie?'' he asks. He seems nervous about something. Probably a bad day at work, like me. `` Fine. And you? What happened? Is everything okay?'' 
 
 `` Fine.'' he replies curtly. He goes into the other room to check on the kids. I should really confront him about his lack of communication. This relationship wo n't work if he blatantly lies to me like that. I've seen what happens. 
 
 I call them out to dinner. The kids walk in ( not running and slamming, yay! ) and get their plates. On her way to the table, Maddie looks to the side as the cat walks through, and her plate tips, spilling its contents. 
 
 I sigh furiously. This is not the first time I've had to tell her to look where she is going. My mother had said she would curse me to have `` horrible children'' like I had supposedly been. I open my mouth to repeat the lesson for the millionth time. 
 
 But something stops me. I look at Maddie, and see that she is trying not to cry. I see my husband, fervently cleaning up the floor and purposefully ignoring all else. I see the fear and expectation in the eyes of all of them. 
 
 The same feeling I felt. 
 
 All those years ago. 
 
 And then it hits me. 
 
 I break down crying and run. I lock myself in the bathroom, sobbing uncontrollably, flashbacks haunting my every move. 
 
 I find a bottle of pills, and contemplate downing them, but another flashback stops me. I am now 13, listening to my mother scream, fearing what might happen to me if my father left me to her wrath. I take the pills, and immediately vomit, bawling over my inability to end my suffering... 
 
 I snap back. My husband is talking to me through the door, but I barely hear him. I already know what I have to do. 
 
 I can not do this to them. 
 
 They deserve so much more than this. 
 
 They will be better off without me.
