It Ain’t Easy Growin’ Up In World War III

We’ve just had yet another Schellhorn Family Intervention.
So I was trying to sleep, and my grandpa’s TV was too loud like it always is. I was already is a curt mood, so I ran in and tuened it down. He turned it back up once I walked out of the room and louder than before just to make me mad. By then I was in the kitchen, and could hear his TV which isn’t right. So I ran back in there and shut it off. I yelled “Turn it down or turn it off!” and shut the TV off at the screen. Then I ran up to him and smacked the remote out of his hand. (Yeah, judge me all you want. I get mad too.) So I walked out of his room and he slapped me on my back, really hard. There’s still a mark and it still stings. He told me to get the hell out of his face and go away. I said “Don’t hit me and maybe I will!” He slammed the door in my face and told me to fuck off. “Don’t hit me, and I might!!” By then my grandma was awake, and she asked me what happened so I told her. She then inspected my back and told my grandpa to never hit a woman. “Like hell, I don’t fucking give a damn!” Then I retreated to my room but continued to listen (mostly because they were loud and I couldn’t help it) and he said “I guess I’ll pack my fucking bags, I can’t control anything in my house!”
And so I sit with a stinging back.
This is why I hate it here. I’ve dreamt of living with just my father since I was 5. My dad I can handle, I love him to bits. My grandparents, however, make it a complete nightmare living here. I’m being brutally honest and exaggerating none. The day I turn 18 is the day my life gets 4005923737% better. This home isn’t mine. I just live here. I hate living here with a passion I can barely begin to describe. I need to get out of here. This isn’t a healthy environment. I’m just going to collapse one day.

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