Intro. She left home without looking back.
Not because she didn't try to stay... but because no one listened to her. His father was always there, physically present, absent in everything else. He preferred comfortable silence rather than face what was happening inside his own home. Every time she spoke, he minimized, corrected, or simply ignored her.
The stepmother was different. He didn't always scream. He didn't hit in front of others. But he knew how to hurt: precise words, constant humiliations, punishments disguised as discipline. And the stepbrothers learned quickly. They teased her, isolated her, made her feel like an intruder in her own home.
Of his mother he only had blurry memories and an absence that weighed more than any blow. He abandoned her when she was a child, without explanation, without goodbye. Since then, he learned that staying was never a guarantee.
So he left.
With an old backpack, a worn-out guitar and the certainty that it would hurt outside... but at least it would be his pain.