dan
i hate my life.
always those fucking adults, fucking with my mind. "you do this wrong, you do that wrong, blablabla, have you ever heard of respect? your behaviour is awful, get yourself together dan!" that's all i can hear lately.
my parents also seem to have enough of this shit. their annoying son has serious 'anger problems' and he's 'rude to everyone' and he 'destroys things on purpose' and he 'steals everything he lays eyes on'.
they're also sick of my behaviour, so they have come to the conclusion to send me to some sort of camp. way to go, parents. this is totally going to work. props to you, man.
not.
they don't understand me, they don't know what i'm feeling. they can never understand, they aren't even willing to listen to me. everything i say is wrong, whatever i tell them. they always seem to have a problem with the things i do, can't they just leave me alone for once?
i'm just sitting here on my bed, bag packed and i'm ready to go to this stupid therapy camp which is so helpful.
i sigh and i look over to my mom who is mumbling things to herself, collecting stuff and shoving it into one of my bags. i look at her working, in disgust. i absolutely hated her for doing this to me.
"so, dan, are you excited?" she says, looking at me with raised eyebrows and a forced smile.
i cross my arms over my chest and avoid her gaze, staring in front of me expressionless, which is a perfect description of my everyday life.
excited? what the fuck? of course i'm not fucking excited. who does she think she is?
"come on dan, talk to me,"
i still refuse to do so, just continuing to blankly stare in front of me. isn't it ironic how i was complaining that they never talk to me, even though i'm never willing to talk to them either? whatever. it's still all their fault.
she just sighs and leaves the room, probably cursing the gods why her son was like this. emo (aka listens to bands with actual good music), 'rebellious' as she calls it, rude, always angry and moody, a smartass, bad grades, really really really bad behaviour and so on. what a disgusting creature was i, but i loved every second of it.
why would i listen to them, it's not like they're better than me just because they're older. it's not that they know more than me, just because they're older. it's not like i should have respect for them if they don't have it for me in return, just because they're older. we're all just people.
they have no right to treat me like this just because i have some obvious mental issues.
no, they won't properly talk to me and or listen to me, they send me to a fucking therapy camp. i still can't believe these people i have to call parents.
"get up dan, we're leaving," my dad says in a bored manner, sighing at me as he makes eyecontact and i stare at him with a furious expression, giving him a death glare. he deserves it. he doesn't deserve a good son. fuck him.
"fine," i say and i get up, following my dad towards the car. as we are walking towards the front door he calls my name and he grabs me by the shoulder making me gasp and i slap his hand off me.
what? i'm extra.
"get off me what the fuck," i say and he just stares at me, wanting to say something and contemplating wether to punish me for acting like that or just leave it.
he went for the second option.
"aren't you forgetting something?" he asks, still staring me directly into my angry eyes, ready for a verbal fight.
"probably my will to actually go to this place,"
i knew what he meant. i bloody knew. he wanted me to get my bags, but everything he wants me to do i don't, i just do the opposite. it's not my fault. i've learned to behave like this and it's their fault. it's all their fault.
my dad sighs, probably not in the mood for arguments like this and he just walks back to my room, probably getting my bags. i grin in victory, turning around and walking towards the car.
i open my door and i slam it close with a hard bang, my mom angrily glaring at me from the rear mirror.
"what?" i say rudely, furrowing my brows. god i was so annoying, and i knew it, and i loved it.
my mom sighed again for the 1000th time today. it must be a pain in the ass to have a son like me. i smile at that thought, i love bothering people. i knew something was wrong with me so why not embrace it and make it worse?
my dad seems to have stuffed every bag in the car and he steps in too, closing the door softly, subtle and way more gentle than me. i just look out of the window as my mom starts the car and it moves, first at a slow pace but then it picks up speed and before i know it we're on the highway.
i sigh, not knowing what the future might bring and not wanting to know it either. i just want this to be over as soon as possible.
i could just jump out of the car right now. i mean i won't do it, but i could. all my worries forgotten just like my entire existence on this trashcan we call earth. not like anyone would care.
but i'm not going to. right?
nah, not worth it. i'm not that crazy, yet.
i'm lost in my thoughts as i close my eyes, relaxing for the first time today and surprisingly it isn't because i just jacked off, but because i'm genuinely tired for once.
i drift off in a deep sleep, dreaming of everything and nothing at the same time.
this is going to be a long day.
-
(a/n) i hope this is not as bad as i thought it would be.
thoughts??????? should i continue???
it gets better though, you just wait. i hope this is original enough.
thanks for reading/voting/commenting
have a nice day kids
