I returned home that evening, I was met with the familiar sight of my father, slumped in a drunken stupor on the balcony. He lay in an armchair, surrounded by scattered whisky bottles. I felt a deep resentment for what he had become, but I chose to ignore him and stepped inside. I often contemplated leaving this place, as my sister Blair had suggested I move in with her. However, I didn't want to impose on her, so I remained here, even though I felt I was reaching my breaking point. The night fell, and I dedicated some time to my studies. I could hear the sound of plates clattering in the kitchen, indicating that he had likely woken up and was searching for something to eat. I tried to focus on my work, but suddenly, a loud thud against my window interrupted my concentration. I glanced over, suspecting it might be some of my bullies, as this was not the first time they had pulled such a stunt. I attempted to ignore it, but the noise persisted, becoming increasingly disruptive.
Last Updated : 2025-02-18 Read more