He was dead… That meant that I was never going to see him again. That also meant that I was stuck with my mother for a long time, or at least until I was 18 and went to college. My mother is probably the only mother in the whole world who wouldn't even care that you were going through a preteen or teenage crisis, or if you never wanted to see her ever again.
"Come on! Hurry up! If I'm late to school again, it's going to be your fault!" I yelled at my evil mother. "YOU HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO RIGHT TO YELL AT ME LIKE THAT!" she responded. "YES I DO! WHEN DAD WAS ALIVE YOU WERE ALL NICE, NOW WHAT HAPPENED? YOU INNER B*$H CAME OUT?" I yelled back. I probably meant those words at the moment, but when she tore the backpack off my back and threw it in the lit up fire place, I immediately regretted those words.