I hear the yelling outside my chamber door and I can tell it’s gone on for a while. My heartbeat is racing, and my palms are clammy with sweat. I try to rub my leg against the cool sheet, but the sweat on my skin clings to it instead. My parents are screaming at each other and I’m lying here, praying it will stop. But it doesn’t and this is normal. At least, it’s my normal. As I lie staring at the ceiling, I lose track of time. How long until I’m forced to walk out into the battlefield? I swing my arm to the cold, stone floor to retrieve my cellphone. The time flashes back at my face. It’s 8:07. At once, my heartbeat kicks up the speed and I can feel the sweat pool in my armpits. I have exactly three minutes to get my butt in class before I’m late. And late is unacceptable. I’m forced to dash out of bed and pull on whatever I can grab first. Sweatpants and a dark t-shirt? It will have to do. I try to pull open my chamber door with as little noise as possible. From my room, it sounds as though they are screaming directly outside of it, but they aren’t. They’re just that loud. They’re in the hallway near it, and at this moment, like so many moments before, I wish to be invisible. It doesn’t work.