Sometimes, I hate my life. (Sob Story, don't click if you don't want to hear about it.) · 5:01am Jun 17th, 2014
All right, gather 'round, kids. Good ol' Bill's gonna tell you a story.
So, I grew up with my mother throughout the first five years of my life, with my sister, and eventual second sister. Life was decent, I got to visit my dad, I got to visit my grandparents, even if I did occasionally pull things off of their hinges... *coughovendoorcough*
Anyway, so my mother ended up going to jail, for murder. At the age of five, I had to move in with my white grandma, which wasn't the best environment. My grandparents got drunk nearly every night, with my dad still living in their basement. The population of my elementary school was a minority of white people, with East Indians taking the majority. Many times, I was abused in that school, for 8 years, I dealt with it. For 8 years, I was the fucking kid who wouldn't get the clue, I wasn't wanted. I was an annoyance to everyone. It took me 8 years to figure out that nobody wanted me there. I had been trying, and trying to be accepted. That's when my mother got out of jail. She went back to living with her parents, finding a job, and getting back on her feet before she moved out, when I moved in with her and my younger sister. Life got pretty good again, we didn't have a lot of money, but we got by. We had a dog, Sasha. She was pretty great, although she ran away a lot. We moved again after my dad apparently kicked down the door to our house. New school, new life, right? It wasn't the case. This was pretty much a duplicate of my old school, with different people with the same fucking attitudes. I hated them. I had one friend, one friend through out my whole life, Bradin. Me and him had lived together since I was 3, and I loved him like the brother I never had. And then we moved again. This time, I was in middle school. Finally a school where white people weren't a minority... maybe I'll fit in. Nope. I thought I had friends, but they came in and they blindsided me, EVERY. FUCKING. TIME. I finally gave up, I couldn't deal with people any longer. I resented everyone, I lost respect for anyone, and everyone decided to call me the loner. I didn't give a shit at the time, but it started to get to me. And then we moved again, and I tried, I tried so FUCKING hard, to hate everyone. I wanted nothing to do with all these ASSHOLES. I figured that everyone would be happier with me gone, and I contemplated it many fucking times. I had the knife, I could've ended it every night, but I chose not too. Because there were 6 people that kept me anchored, that kept me alive. My group of friends, the people that kept me alive, were the first people to be nice to me in 9 years, and I fucking loved it. We had similar interests, we hung out. But as the year closed, it all seemed to good to be true. I started noticing the little things, like body language. The way they acted. Most of them acted like they wanted nothing to do with me. I fell back into the same routine, with the knife at my wrist. I never actually cut, only threatened myself with it. I had my own version of Nightmare Moon in my head, telling me to just do it, make everyone else happy. I was bitter, secluding myself to my room. And then I found My Little Pony. And then I found FiMFiction. And then school was back in, and I couldn't wait to get back home and keep reading. And then January rolled around, and suddenly after 4 years, my older sister decided she wanted to move in... great. At this point, there's already 4 people in the house, My mother, my mothers boyfriend/my soon to be stepdad, my stepsister, and me. It's a three bedroom house... See the problem? I have my own room, my mother and stepdad share a room, and my stepsister has her own room. Little tid bit about my sisters, One of them is a chronic liar, and one of them is not accountable for anything she does, and is always the victim. Guess which one is moving over. The latter. I'm the middle child, and I tend to be the double agent between my siblings, on both their sides, but really in it for an outside party, ex. my mother. The spy, the one who wrings out all those dirty little secrets, because they think they can trust me, and BAM, I fucking blind side them. Just like everyone did to me. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed watching them squirm. I used to think I hated them both equally, but oh boy have I never been so wrong, I hate my older sister much more, then my younger sister. To the point where I would rather go back to the days where I just sat and cried at the edge of the school grounds, then share a room with her. But guess what, I don't really get a fucking choice, nor do I get any fucking privacy. I cannot fucking stand my sister any more. The many thoughts of homicide only get more deranged by the day. She is NEVER accountable. Money is still tight, we were left alone for two days, I'm 14, my sister is 16 going on 17 in a couple months here. We had 30 dollars to spend on dog food, and food for ourselves. My 14 year old brain says, let's go to McDonalds. I'm like fuck yeah, food is bad as shit for you, but I want to indulge. Sister says nothing and continues on with the plan. Mother and Stepdad come back next day. Next morning, Mom says "Why didn't you guys go out and get milk, or at least tell someone we didn't have milk?" Sister to the rescue!!! "It must have crossed my mind, we used it baking the cake last night." All right, so far so good. "So why didn't you go and get more?" "We didn't have money." Bam, we lose. "What did you guys eat yesterday?" Silence from me, sister says eggs. "What did you guys eat the day before?" Points to the McDonalds bag sitting on the desk. Mom is pissed. "Are you fucking kidding me? I meant get food for two days not fucking binge, dah dah dah dah dah." I shake my head, game over. On the way to school, last day. Sister pulls "It wasn't my idea." You're right, it wasn't your fucking idea, but you still went along with it. Fucking Narc. I live my life by a moral code, I guess. Rule number one, on that moral code is "Those who ride together, die together." In other words, if you and someone else get caught doing stupid shit, you don't fucking pull none of this "It wasn't my idea." bullshit. I clenched my knuckles and ground my teeth. This fucking bitch. All right, now a bit about my mom. My mom, is one of those parents who has a favourite child. That favourite child, turns out to be me. So far, I am the only child who has stayed with her since she got out of jail. Also, I am a safe person, who doesn't fucking prostitute themselves for tattoos, or get drunk and have sex, or drink and/or do drugs. Or lie. I just sit in my room, read, go on facebook, skype, play a few games, look at some cool shit, sleep, and recently write. I'm a quiet person, occasionally being loud. Whenever my sister gets in shit, she cries to my red grandma, who believes that my sister is pretty much Saint fucking Michael, and she can do no wrong. I hate her, oh so very, very much.
Well, that's enough of my stewing, new chapter of my dumb story is up, also, My mother did not murder anyone. So, Tada! Clickity Click
Holy mother of Jozeph. I'm sorry man, I hope you're...I 'unno, alright?]
Fun fact: My name is Michael.
2287546 Hey, I'm William, or Immortal, or whatever you want to call me. I'm fine, I was just going through a rough patch with my mom, and I needed to vent. So here I vented.
2288767 Do you have skype?
2290156 I do indeed. I'll PM it to you.
2290226 Oki :)