It was around three in the AM. To say that I was drunk would be an understatement. I was heavily intoxicated, from all of the Bacardi I had drunk to down all of the unidentified pills I had taken. To sum it all up, I should be in this cold, pasty white bathroom, lying in the tub, dead; but I wasn't, someone somewhere had a warped sense of humor. So there I was, intoxicated and high off my ass, contemplating every event that had brought me to this dark place.

I was the head cheerleader in high school. I had the great grades, two of the best friends ever (Who were also squad.), a great boyfriend (Football team.), and a great family. My life was picture perfect.

It wasn't until one night, after cheering at one of the football games that things changed…

My father had decided to stay home that night, he said he was overstressed from work. We believed him, of course, we lived the picture perfect life, there was no reason not to trust him.

That night the game lasted until a little after halftime. I had just finished up the routine out on the field and was heading back to the sidelines when the rain started. It wasn't just any light rain that our boys could play in, it was pouring. The game was canceled shortly afterwards.

Apparently daddy had found a way of distressing that he was hiding from us, when my mom and I walked into our house we saw him and a much younger red head going at it on our living room couch.

I was horrified that he would do this to us. To our picture perfect family. To my mom.To me.

There you have it, the very event that started all of this. I cringe at the thought that I could honestly pinpoint all of my problems on my father. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

After my mom chased the whore out of our house, and my father dressed himself, the fighting started. I sat in my bedroom and listened to every word yelled. With each word that was yelled I could feel our family slipping, like sand through my fingers. I could feel everything I'd ever known slowly tipped upside down.

I sat in my bedroom every night listening as they fought over everything. The house. The furniture. The cars. But mostly, they fought over me. Neither of them really caring to have me around, I was just the ultimate prize to win. To be able to forever hold it over the other's head.

The fighting between them only ceased once the courts decided my fate; The house was my mother's, the money was half and half, the furniture was divided up (My mother's only request was the small couch, that we had both avoided sitting on like the plague after that night.), and I had to go back and forth to each parent every other week.

And that would bring us to the next event that had caused me to end up here, the instability. Or so the countless shrinks, that my mother forced me to see, had decided.

After everything was settled and moved out my mother decided something had to be done with the rather large red couch that was sitting in our living room.

It was an early December morning when my mom burst into my room to wake me up, "Hayley wake up, I need your help." I was too tired to argue so I did as she asked, helping her move the couch out to our back yard. Fetching the can of gas, my father had always insisted we needed, just in case, when my mom asked me to. I brought it back to her and she violently shook its contents over the length of the bright red couch, that my mother had begged for months for. "Matches Hayley." She said quietly, starring at the, now soaking, couch. I brought the book of matches we always kept in the kitchen drawer. She lit it and threw it over the couch. I stood with her and watched the harsh flames as the constant reminder of that night, both of us silently crying.

A few weeks later my mom informed me that we could no longer afford to keep the house that I had grew up in. The very house that held all my memories of family holidays, every milestone of my life, countless sleepovers with Alex and Valerie (My best friends.). I was heartbroken over the upcoming loss.

I never let my mother know of the pain that was eating me up inside over the move, she was already dealing with way more than she could handle.