Part two

Day three-hundred and two. Pmsing is a bitch on it's own. But when you're living with your mother and you're BOTH at that time of the month, watch out WWE there's some new competition in town. Sometimes I just feel like she's out to get me. And only me. Ugh. Fuck this man. She keeps stating how whatsherface seems to prefer her younger son and how it's totally unfair, while back at home signs of that favorite-child-disease are slowly beginning to appear. She's starting to really tick me off. Her way is always the only correct answer; like a tricky multiple choice question on a synthesis exam, I must figure out the right one before the time runs out. Eighteen years old and too young to live on my own...have I no other choice?

Part one.

Day three-hundred and one into this emotion-filled year and I'm still as confused as ever. How does she expect me to be like her when we're two complete opposite. The amount of scrutiny I must endure daily is unbelievable. I don't do what she says and it's the end of the world. I do something, and it's done wrong. Nothing seems to please my Jason-Voorhees of a mother. Like a sadistic cannibal, gnawing at his victims until nothing remains. Have I the same destiny?