One day, when I was 12, I got in trouble at school. I got in trouble all the time, every year. But this day I will never forget.
My school had phoned home, or possibly one of my parents at work. So, I knew the minute I walked in the door, it would be starting, the yelling, maybe the slapping, or spanking. But my dad was calm. "Go to your room..."
Maybe that was scarier. I was sent to my room for what felt like ages. Then my mom opens the door. She looks at me, hand on the doorknob, crying. She doesn't say anything. She closed the door.
I didn't see her for about a month or two. At some point, my dad said they were getting a divorce.
Up until that point, I thought my mom left because of what I did at school.
And my parents wonder why I f**king hate them.