By the time I finished with the crawfish and walked back to the dining room, they had already finished and gone out to the grocery store. The table was a disaster, with only a few wilted lettuce leaves floating in the soup bowl. I served myself some oatmeal and ate it with what little broth was left.
When they got back, I had already washed the dishes and retreated to my room. However, calling it a "room" felt like a joke. It was really just a cluttered storage space with piles of junk everywhere, and the door was a flimsy sliding one. No wonder, in my past life, my brother had no trouble sneaking in to kill me.
Lying on my bed, I could hear them laughing and chatting in the living room. My brother was working his charm on Dad, asking for the newest video game console, and Mom was already in the kitchen, whipping up some late-night crawfish just for him.
In my past life, I might've cried, wondering why my brother and I-- both born to the same parents-- were treated so differently. Was it because I was a girl? But now, I didn't care anymore. All I wanted was to break free from this toxic family.
The next morning, I woke up early, like I always did, and made breakfast for everyone. Once they were all up, I was finally able to head out for school. As I walked, I started thinking about how I could move out and live on campus. After I got to school, I went straight to the office to talk to my homeroom teacher about it.
"Living on campus is fine," she said after hearing me out, "but you'll need a parent to sign off on it." She printed out a form and handed it to me. "Take this home and get it signed, then bring it back to me."
I bit my lip, hesitating. "Is there any way to do it without getting a signature?"
She frowned slightly and gave me a kind look. "Is there a problem at home? You should really talk it over with your parents. They just want what's best for you."
I had no choice but to take the form and leave.
After school, I came home and found the front door locked. Without my keys, I turned around and went down to the card room. The air was thick with smoke, but I spotted Mom right away.
"Mom, I forgot my keys," I said quietly.
She rolled her eyes. "Seriously? What's wrong with you? Can't even remember a key? Raising you is worse than raising a pig!" She cursed under her breath while digging through her purse for the key.