Honest to God, if I actually had enough money to sustain myself I’d run away in an instant. This is hell I’m living in and I can’t take one more minute of it.
And the funny thing is that people look at me and think I’m fine. I’m the farthest thing from fine. My brother accused me of stealing his money and then found it under the dresser where it fell. I got upset and then my dad called me mentally unstable. Well of course, after my brother accuses me of stealing his money and getting my mom to search my room from top to bottom I’m going to be perfectly happy. Why wouldn’t I be?
