Sammy’s mom always said the same thing when she would climb up into the treehouse to get Sammy. She would look into Sammy’s eyes with her own tear-filled and occasionally purple rimmed ones and promise she would get them out of there; someday, they would be free of him. Sammy used to believe her. She believed it was true when her mom whisked them away to her aunt’s house, saying they were going to go far away. She even believed her the one time after that, when her mom had taken a stand and kicked him out. He stayed away for a whole week.

But somehow, they always ended up right back where they started. Sammy didn’t know for sure why, but she knew more than anyone gave her credit for. She couldn’t always escape to the treehouse. Some night she just had to lie in bed frozen, not able to sleep as the muffled screaming found its way through the walls.

It was on those nights Sammy started to piece together why they always came back. She would hear her dad spewing insults towards her mother, centered on the fact that she didn’t make enough money. Did she really think she could survive without him? Was that the kind of life she wanted for Sammy, poor and without a father?

Sammy wasn’t sure if that was the life she wanted, but she knew for sure that the life she had right now was not what she wanted. But there was nothing Sammy could do, besides go up to the treehouse and play pretend, allowing herself to imagine being in a life much different than her own. That was all she could do, at least for now.