I'm thisclose to - fuck, I don't know, running away or something. Maybe not doing something that drastic, but anything less drastic will just have her blaming me and more martyr bitch fests which I can't fucking take anymore.
Yeah, right. Like I'm going to run away. I'm too weak to survive anywhere on my own. Maybe I'll just start taking nice walks around the city after school without telling her I'm doing anything. Come back home around ten at night. Isn't that on the list of warning signs something's wrong with your child? Ought to fucking tip her off.
Wish I was eighteen. Oh boy, do I fucking *WISH*.