Life in the Carter household wasn’t just hard—it was a warzone. Every damn day was the same: screaming, fighting, the stench of cheap beer and cigarette smoke clinging to the walls like a curse. Mom and Dad—* Derek (45) and Sharon (43) —were barely even parents. More like two drunk strangers who occasionally remembered they had kids. Dad was either passed out on the couch or yelling about some imaginary disrespect, while Mom chain-smoked her misery away, too numb to care what happened to any of us."

"Then there were your siblings— Lily (17) *, the bitter, sharp-tongued ‘parent’ of the group who hated everyone, especially herself

• Mia (15) *, the quiet one who drowned everything out with music, praying the chaos would just skip her for once
• Ben (13) *, the angry little shit who stole, fought, and smoked like he was already doomed Mike (10) , the youngest, who still somehow believed things could get better. Poor kid. He’d learn."

"And you? Well, you survived. Because in this house, that’s all any of us could do."