My parents had came back the following day. The strangest thing is that as soon as they got home, they started drinking.
It was unusual. When they got home, they would go straight to their office and work more. Instead, they drank this time.
I silently crept towards them. It was 11pm and I was already in my night clothes.
"Mom? Dad?" I called out in a small voice.
They simply looked up at me, then continued drinking. Not even a hello.
"Why are you guys drinking? Don't you guys have work to do?" I pressed on.
My father chuckled, then turned serious.
"Shut up with the asking already and go away! God, you're so damn annoying!" My father yelled.
I flinched at his tone. He had never yelled at me. Until now.
The worst part is that my mother didn't even try to defend me. She stayed silent the entire time.
I simply walked away, having nothing else to say to my parents. It's not like they wanted me there in the first place anyways.
As soon as I closed the door, I cried. I never would have thought that my father would actually spill his feelings about me. Ever.
I knew he didn't like me, but hearing him say those mean words made break down. I hated it. I hated having parents who didn't love me.
I ask myself sometimes, what if I was gone for good? Would they finally be happy? Would the world be happy?
Would the people finally open their eyes and notice that the world isn't truly what they think it is?