"Well you know what? Someone else who wants to be a clone can have my 'successful future' because, quite frankly, I don't give a damn!" I shouted.
"Don't you use that tone of voice with me, young lady!" my mother shouted.
"Don't 'young lady' me! I know you wish I was never born! Did you think I ever wondered why I was an only child? I have eyes, I have a brain, so I used them. I know that I was a mistake! I know that no one really wanted me! I know-"
"ENOUGH!" she shouted. My father peered over his paper and watched what was going on. "Go to your room, right now," When I didn't move, she shouted, "NOW!" I pushed past her and headed up the stairs.
"Next time, Mom," I said, "Use protection or get an abortion,"
"GET THE FUCK INTO YOUR ROOM!" she screeched and launched herself up the stairs. Afraid that she was going to actually hurt me, I flew into my room and locked the door. My heart pounded as she stood outside my door yelling nonsense at me. After twenty minutes, she pounded back downstairs and went out. As soon as I heard the car pull away, there was a timid knock at my door.
"Sheelin, it's me," my dad said. Great, just what I need; a father who doesn't protect his daughter from the wrath of his unbearable wife. I looked in my mirror and put on my best angsty teenager face.
"What?" I snapped as I opened the door, "What do you want now?"
"I-"
"So tell me," I interrupted, "How was the paper, hmm? You seemed pretty intent on reading the sports section, but wait a minute, you hate sports," I pushed past him and went down to the kitchen. I had less than ten minutes to get to the library and it was a twenty minute walk. I knew I was being unfair to him, but he should have done something to help me. Anything would've been better than just sitting there watching.
"I'm sorry, but lately your mother has been increasingly impatient with everything," he said, looking ashamed for not doing anything.
"Impatient with everything, or just us?" I asked. Since that bitch was going to make me late, I was going to talk shit behind her back. It was a juvenile move, but that argument was uncalled for.
"I'm sure it's just a phase," he said.
"Dad, am I even your child?" I'm practically a spitting image of him, but I wanted to throw the idea out there that maybe she wasn't happy with her family. I would see her with her friends downtown on the weekends, and she looked pretty happy then, but when she came home, all her happiness went away and she went back to being the crochety old house wife, except she isn't old.
"How can you suggest that I'm not your father?" he demanded.
"Don't you use that tone of voice with me, young lady!" my mother shouted.
"Don't 'young lady' me! I know you wish I was never born! Did you think I ever wondered why I was an only child? I have eyes, I have a brain, so I used them. I know that I was a mistake! I know that no one really wanted me! I know-"
"ENOUGH!" she shouted. My father peered over his paper and watched what was going on. "Go to your room, right now," When I didn't move, she shouted, "NOW!" I pushed past her and headed up the stairs.
"Next time, Mom," I said, "Use protection or get an abortion,"
"GET THE FUCK INTO YOUR ROOM!" she screeched and launched herself up the stairs. Afraid that she was going to actually hurt me, I flew into my room and locked the door. My heart pounded as she stood outside my door yelling nonsense at me. After twenty minutes, she pounded back downstairs and went out. As soon as I heard the car pull away, there was a timid knock at my door.
"Sheelin, it's me," my dad said. Great, just what I need; a father who doesn't protect his daughter from the wrath of his unbearable wife. I looked in my mirror and put on my best angsty teenager face.
"What?" I snapped as I opened the door, "What do you want now?"
"I-"
"So tell me," I interrupted, "How was the paper, hmm? You seemed pretty intent on reading the sports section, but wait a minute, you hate sports," I pushed past him and went down to the kitchen. I had less than ten minutes to get to the library and it was a twenty minute walk. I knew I was being unfair to him, but he should have done something to help me. Anything would've been better than just sitting there watching.
"I'm sorry, but lately your mother has been increasingly impatient with everything," he said, looking ashamed for not doing anything.
"Impatient with everything, or just us?" I asked. Since that bitch was going to make me late, I was going to talk shit behind her back. It was a juvenile move, but that argument was uncalled for.
"I'm sure it's just a phase," he said.
"Dad, am I even your child?" I'm practically a spitting image of him, but I wanted to throw the idea out there that maybe she wasn't happy with her family. I would see her with her friends downtown on the weekends, and she looked pretty happy then, but when she came home, all her happiness went away and she went back to being the crochety old house wife, except she isn't old.
"How can you suggest that I'm not your father?" he demanded.
