Well, I’ve decided I’m getting out of here at 18. My uncle basically said I was acting like a bitch, and my aunt said I was acting like a princess. Ok, I was being a jerk about the whole thing, but come on! I want some input on some stuff. It was breakfast for God’s sake! I didn’t want McDonald’s! They didn’t want to hear anything I had to say on the matter, so I just stayed home. Being a jerk set aside, breakfast was really just the tip of a large nasty Titanic sized iceberg. I’m just kinda tired of being reigned in all the time. Ok, not just kinda…more like WAY. The bitch and princess thing totally pissed me off. If it hadn’t have been my parents saying it, if it had been someone else, I would’ve fucking punched them. Bitch just makes me unbearably angry…we’re talking like steam coming out of my ears mad. I literally see red whenever anyone calls me bitch. I may be bitchy, but I will not stand anyone calling me that for anything. In fact I am a bitch, but so what? Princess just adds insult to injury. I should’ve just come back with, “And guess what? Some would say you act like a real son of a bitch sometimes.” Because sometimes he really is. As for her, I should’ve just said, “Oh yeah, this coming from the woman who must always have her heater even though it may over load the circuit breaker, just because you can’t put on a damn sweater like me?” Ha! I know that would’ve gotten me a worse beating, instead I just let the black fury I was feeling stay on my face. Yeah…my aunt slapped me. Big freakin deal. I’m bigger than she is, and it really didn’t hurt. My uncle told me I could get out if I didn’t like the rules and if I didn’t want to be a part of the team. Ok, I get that every week. Again, big freakin deal. She turned it around and made it about us playing her against both of us. Yeah right. Besides, this isn’t JUST about her. Then he mentioned to her that I was big enough to hit back. That was like a little more salt in the wound. I would never lift a finger to her. More insult to injury. I felt like slapping him for saying it. I have no qualms about the idea of hitting him. He’s a pompous jack ass most of the time. He can’t handle his emotions, everything ALWAYS has to be his way, he can never be wrong, and his delivery of the facts always sucks. My aunt yells at me like she’s a banshee. My uncle treats me like a dog. And pretty much, my whole attitude is, “I don’t give a fuck! Leave me the hell alone! Can’t you just go away, please? Can I have some peace? Go do something else somewhere else. Spare me the lecture about me getting out; I’m leaving pretty damn soon anyway. I don’t care if you think I can’t make it, I will. I don’t care what the hell you think!” They think I’m ok, but really, I’m chomping at the bit for 18. I want out of here. This summer, I’m movin out. I refuse to tell them where exactly I’m going. That’s part of the punishment. They’ll have to suffer without knowing where I’ve gone. Ok, that’s cruel. Way cruel. But I am just venting at the moment. The second I get a chance to actually leave, I’ll just prolly chicken out, like I always do. Oh well…so much for being so damn independent.

Then again, the next time when he says I can get out, I’ll fucking leave. I don’t like the rules or the boundaries. I don’t wanna be a part of the “team” because it fucking sucks and there really are no benefits except that I get treated like shit. I’m tired of being held back from my full potential. Also, I’m tired of my “friends” treating me like I’m a moron. Ok, they’re not really my friends, in fact I HATE them. There’s no getting away from that. I fucking hate them. I only have five friends, and I’m not really sure that they’d care if I up and left. Lovely right? I’d rather just leave then stick it out with a bunch of people who leave a bitter metallic taste of anger and betrayal in my mouth. I have everything I need, it just isn’t here.