You have no idea how angry I am right now. I'm 14 years old, and the only reason why I've been trying, is to impress my parents. My grandma kicked me out and my dad took me in and then my dad kicked me out and my grandma took me in. But I'm pretty sure shes going to kick me out again. Oh, well. How do I describe this feeling? When I got kicked from my grandmas house into my dad's, I was devastated. I went all negative viewing the glass half empty, you know? I always wanted to go back to my grandma's, and she wanted me back too I think. But my dad had me in his grip. He wouldn't let me go back. He wouldn't let grandma take me back. But I always felt that it would be all better when I went back. If I went back. I got so furious at the things I had to do when Maylen left. All of a sudden, I was responsible for everything that went wrong. It felt like even though dad was there, I was alone because my dad never talked to me unless he was yelling at me. I was to cook his meals, clean his messes, take care of his dogs and do everything for dad that he should've been doing for me. I didn't even eat breakfast or dinner anymore because I didn't want to. The only reason I didn't just stop was to make my dad and grandma happy, even though my dad was depressed. Being around a depressed person is contagious. You get depressed. And he was all that was there. I got depressed and stayed in my room most of the time. I didn't even want to play videogames anymore. All I did was do my schoolwork and work for dad, without any reward. I remember when report card time came around, I was so happy with my grades (all B's except for algebra which I've failed all year) I actually showed dad in hpes that something would make him happy. And do you know what he said? "They're not A's, are they?" That's when I realized that I couldn't make dad happy, no matter how hard I tried. So I gave up. I quit trying. I even stopped making dinner for dad, doing my homework, and cleaning. I just didn't care. I remember for two months straight, I came home from school and went straight to bed. I never told my grandma because I didn't want to upset her. I didn't care about my dad. Then one day I let our three dogs out and they ran around town. I called dad and told him I needed help. He told me "When I get home you better have your bags packed, because I'm tired of fixing your problems." That's when I moved back. I was so happy I was moving back until I got here. I still had that negative outlook, and that careless, hateful view of things. I tried to let that all go, and start making grandma proud. But today I was in the kitchen, when my sister told my grandma that Makayla (my cousin) told her that I was sing the song "My Dick". I said Makayla was singing it but I told her to stop saying that word. And she did. I changed the words to my "Twizzler", and we both sung the song, laughing. My sister told my grandma that I was actually cussing. Who's Grandma going to believe? A supposedly Athiust kid, or a Christian, non-cussing, almost angelic, kid? My sister.

Part III later.