Me and my sibling would leave at around 1:45, having a nice breath of relief from the weekend being just around the corner, and us having the rest of the day to ourselves without that fat hog breathing down our instructor’s neck. So many people irritate me, every single day. That one kid was just a peck on the cheek of ennui. On my way home, we heard the barks and growls of Salem (a blue shepherd) No wonder they call it a “spitz” breed. Might have been bitten by a squirrel or something, I don’t know. Anyway, it annoyed the fuck out of us, so my brother pinned its back to the ground, and I beat it to smithereens with my lunchbox, containing some of the leftover cutlet I ate at school. No one saw us, thankfully. The segregation gets real, even with pets, but come on, even though we left it alive, it was going to die anyway. What normal person in this cruel world would bother touching that? I finally made it home. My mother was too busy cooking to even notice us, and my dad was piss drunk on the sofa. Being home was kind of a mixed bag for me. Sometimes I didn’t want to be here, sometimes I did. Even though my father drinks like a sailor and my mother hits like a truck when we do something she doesn’t like, I can’t help but wonder if she even wants to do that. Sometimes, I feel like I deserve a punch in the head. It’s true, I am a little shit. I will not lie but we were knocking on your door