Well, a lot of shit is going on here at my grandparents/uncles house-- my second home, if not the first.
My aunt Joy and uncle Chuck like to blame my sister, Liz, for any fucking thing they can. Today for instance, their four year old Teresa was starting shit and screaming-- and of course they start yelling at my sister.
Liz was sweeping the kitchen for Grandma, and Teresa started yelling cause she wanted to do the same spot as Liz-- Grandma was taking care of the situation, but of course... Chuck has to put in his two cents. I was ready to fucking scream.
Chuck and Joy treat Shania and Teresa like shit, and it pisses me off. Chuck and Joy do nothing in this fucking house-- they don't pay a penny for rent or bills, not even half the groceries even though they get food stamps.
A week or so ago I told Shania, Liz, and Teresa to help pick up to help Grandma since all they do is watch cartoons. I was on the computer, getting ready to get off myself to help as well. Chuck walks by and makes the comment "Oh so the kids have to help and you don't?" I WAS READY TO FUCKING RIP HIS HEAD OFF!
I am the one that takes care of the garden-- I planted it, I weed it. I help take care of HIS children because he is too fucking lazy to do so himself. I help my Grandmother clean up the house. I help make sure my Grandfather is taken care of. And what does HE do?! Sits on his ass, playing video games, on the computer, or reading books!
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I am dreading going home. I do not want to -- I do not wish to. The thoughts will come back. The shit will start again. I will probably be half starved, lest for weekends when I return here-- to my half-safe haven.
My mom will yell at me again-- for reasons that only exist in her mind. I will eventually crack for I think I cannot take it anymore.
I will try so hard to reach as high as I can in academics but with my Mother yelling at me again-- how can I? Who will I have to talk to? Who will be there to tell me it is okay, it will all be right in just a bit?
My mask of happiness, of caring, of taking delight in living will just have to be formed again-- I know it.
My suicidal thoughts will more than likely flood back in such a wave I will not be able to take it.
Am I really to live my life, to walk this path or any other -- or am I here, only to suffer then die?
©Amanda J. Potter
