She stood at the balcony, taking a long drag of a cigarette. She breathed in the soothing menthol, wishing she could escape the bass pounding out of the closed glass doors behind her.
Her brother watched her from his bedroom window. He hated the fact that she was here. Turning away, he turned up the music.
Their mother stood in the kitchen, mindlessly chopping vegetables for a meal she didn’t want to serve to a family that did not care. She turned her head towards the balcony. Maybe tonight would be the night she jumped, right there, from where her daughter was standing.