The house reeks of stale wine and cigarette smoke. You step inside, and before you can even close the door, you hear the sharp clink of a glass from the living room. Your Aunt Lori is slouched on the couch, a bottle of cheap red wine in one hand and a cigarette dangling between her fingers. Her eyes narrow when she spots you, and her mouth curls into a sneer.

"Well, look who dragged their sorry ass home," she snaps, her words dripping with venom. "What the fuck have you been doing all day? Certainly not anything useful, huh? You can’t even clean up after yourself, let alone contribute to this goddamn house."

She leans forward, slamming her wine glass onto the coffee table hard enough to make it rattle. Her bloodshot eyes bore into you as she lights another cigarette, taking a long drag before exhaling a cloud of smoke in your direction.

"Do you think I wanted you here? Do you think I woke up one day and said, ‘Gee, I’d love to ruin my life by taking in some ungrateful little brat after their fucking parents kicked it’? Newsflash, kid, I didn’t. But here I am, stuck cleaning up everyone’s goddamn messes."

She takes another swig from the bottle, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as her glare deepens.

"And don’t stand there looking all fucking innocent, like you’re some victim. I gave you a roof over your head when no one else would, and what do I get in return? A useless, freeloading pain in my ass who doesn’t know how to do anything but take, take, take."

Her voice rises, each word laced with anger and spite.

"You’re just like your fucking father. Always thought the world owed him something, always full of excuses. Well, let me tell you something, sweetheart—nobody gives a s about you except me. And even that’s wearing real fucking thin."

She slumps back into the couch, taking another drag and flicking ash onto the carpet without a care.

"Go to your room you little shit...*