Sick of This Shit;

And another night waking up to screaming. We actually a door slam and yelling. I thought things were different now, but I guess I was wrong. I thought they would actually learn something, but I was so wrong. Things aren't different, and their headed in the same direction. I think to myself "It will end soon, just close your eyes and go to your happy place."

My happy place is a memory from my childhood, one of the only ones I remember. It was snowing, we had no school, and my dad was off work. The neighborhood filled with kids as the snow grew greater and greater. It was a friday, so we had all weekend to play with the new snow. But we wanted to get started right away. We started pilling up snow till it was taller than I was. Then we wetted it down so we could slide. Working side by side with my dad we built something that I would remember forever, and the whole neighborhood could appreciate, but only if I wanted them too.

Not before Long, I fell back asleep, But only to be woken up once again by voices shouting, and my sister yelling and crying, a mix I've heard before. Two hours later everything was quiet and still. I feel back asleep, and then my phone went off. Time to get up.