My parents were never gone. They were in bed. They knew I was there. They knew I was trying to get in. You know what they did, they just sat in bed some more. They just called my grandpa and said I could come home.
And all I have to say is...
god dammit :(
They couldn't get out of bed and let me in, and they knew I was there.
They'd rather just sit there.
If that was me at the other end I'd probably do the same.
I still hate myself.
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