Thursday night.

So I'm sitting here at home on the Internet when I should be at an eighteenth. How sad. Is that. And I'm asking myself why I didn't go. It would have been an unreal night. Well for one I didn't really know anyone going, but that wouldn't necessarily stop me. To be honest, it's my parents.

And no, they didn't say no. They never even knew. I didn't tell them. And I guess that was stupid. But I just can't talk to them. I try, believe me, I try, but I don't enjoy it, so why should I bother. But then I try in other ways. I come home early, I don't get in trouble, I don't ask for too much. But they're never happy. Ever. And that makes me angry. And also stressed.

But it's not like they give out to me or punish me or anything. It's probably just me. But I try to make it as easy as possible for them. I sacrafice my own life for them. So that they can have a glass of wine, so that they can go to bed when they want. But what annoys me more than anything else is the fact that I get absolutely no thanks for it. I sometimes wonder if it would have been easier for me to have been a problem child from day one, and that I'd have more freedom now as a result.

But no. I was always a good child. I got the best results in the class. I never stepped out of line. And this is the thanks I get. A self-inflicted stress because I'm too afraid to trouble my parents. And why? Why do I bother? I come home, and I want more than anything to get out of the house, to leave. But I can't, I'm stuck here. I do nothing whatsoever wrong, and still I'm met with this frosty reception for no apparent reason.

I really don't know what I can do. Once I'm back at school I'll have to study so any time I have at home will be spebt in my room, and I'll have a proper excuse. But I've gotten myself a job for the summer. Well hopefully for the summer anyway. I got this job for one reason. To buy freedom. Well as close as I can get to freedom anyway. There isn't a hope in hell of me staying at home when I'm incollege, but of course they want to keep me within their reach. But I am out of here. So in order to live my life I am spending the summer selling scratchcards on the street. I know you're probably saying it's years away but I need to start saving now. This is my future. Not my parents', but mine. They thnk they can keep me here by offering to buy me a car, but I don't want one. I have my plans made, and I know plans always change, but I highly doubt I'm staying at home.

I should look forward to going home. I should like it. It should be my safe haven. But I'm always on edge when I'm at home. Jumping at every door that opens, sinking even lower at the sound of someone's footsteps or voice. I don't even know why I'm so stressed when I'm here, but I am. And I want to get away.

I know that sounds seriously depressed and suicidal, but it's not like that. I love my parents, but they just don't GET it. I know I take them for granted but it's hard not to when you're sixteen years old, and there's a party on a few miles away that you should be at.

There's this person I need to talk to, but they're always too busy, and not by any fault of their own. But it's ok, because people, they make me happy. I love people. Meeting new people, talking to people, just being with people. That's the dream.