Note: This is 100% fiction written in a seventeen-year-old’s point-of-view.
An autumn breeze blows in my direction, making me shiver as I wrap my jacket tighter around me. It’s gotten damper and colder since yesterday. The leaves at the side of the road has been rearranging itself every few minutes.
Next time before you walk out on your parents, bring some warm clothes and essentials! I mentally scold myself and sigh. There won’t be a next time because once you walk out, you’re never allowed back in.
Erg, it’s like they’re constantly looking for a fight, as if the day we don’t fight is the apocalypse descending on Earth or something. I’m so tired of fighting. Why can’t we just live harmoniously? It’s not like we don’t have the space. The three of us live in a 6000-square-feet mansion. Maybe that’s what rich people do, they’re bored and they argue over some meaningless topics.
If you ask me, I have no clue what happened last night and I wasn’t even drinking. What? It’s a crime to raid my parents’ wine cellar? Anyone would if they’re living in such toxic environment.
My stomach’s churning with hunger. I better get some money first and then something to eat. Let’s hope my parents haven’t frozen my account.