I hate this fucking place.

I hate him.

I hate him for being right.

He'll never get a thank you from me, but I can't deny that my life has gotten better since I left. What did I have before? Smoke stained clothes, the stress of trying to take care of adults who can barely take care of themselves, three shitty meals a day and my own room?

Yeah, my semi-charmed kind of life.

I didn't even have real friends until I moved here. Not that I have real friends now. But at least people act excited to see me.

Wulf didn't even give me the chance to explain. I just wanted to know if what happened to Logo was because of me. I don't need a psych degree to know why it bothers me. All my life, I've paid for other people's sins.

When my mom left, I paid for those sins by trying to take on her responsibilities. I tried to be the woman my family needed. That's a little hard when you're thirteen fucking years old.

When my dad struggled to support Crystal, Dakon, and myself, I put almost all of my paychecks into keeping us afloat.

When Crystal was too cracked out to be a mom, I tried to make sure Dakon was taken care of.

When my brother got in over his head, and racked up a debt so large, I became the payment he couldn't have hoped to make.

Paying for other people's mistakes is a burden. A painful one. At first, you don't realize it's happening. You just take a few hits to the chin and keep going. But before you even realize what's happened, your jaw has been shattered.

Even though the rational part of me realizes that these things aren't my fault, the non-rational part of my brain can't seem to cope. Acknowledging the chaos is harder than blocking it out. So that's what I do, I just pretend it isn't happening.

Focusing on what I can do, and what I can control, I decide to continue my college plans. He said I could go anywhere I wanted, I just couldn't be alone. So as long as I can get my financial aid figured out, I'm still getting my degree.

I've called the hotline three different times. Each time, I want at least one person to give me a different answer. They all say the same thing though, I need a parent or guardian's information to apply for Financial Aid.

Pretty fucking hard considering my mom's probably a coke whore living somewhere on the outskirts of San Antonio and my dad probably hasn't filed his taxes in the past three years.

I wish I had papers to crumple. That simple action might keep me from pulling out my hair, which is exactly what I want to do. Is it too much to ask to have one, just one, person in my life who is willing to help me?

I don't want much. I just want fucking information, Dad. For once in my life, I want to be normal. I want to go to college, rack up student loans, and live the American fucking Dream.

When he comes in, I don't even look up. My head is already a bed of snakes, I don't need his mind games toying with me. He pulls up his shirt and gets a fresh one out of the drawer. That smell hits me. His unique scent- clean soap, deodorant, and man.

"What are you doing?" he asks with his back to me.

"Nothing, apparently," I say, closing my laptop. Trying to do quick math, I add up how long it would take me to graduate taking two classes a semester. You pay per credit hour, and I think if he'd let me get a job I could at least afford to pay for four classes a year. Maybe six if I take ones over the summer. I'll need to call to see if they let you do payment plans.

Fuck. What about books? I'll probably just start with two classes and see how it goes.

He looks at me suspiciously. "Give me your laptop," he says.

Instinctively, I pull it to my chest. Easily, he pries it away. "Put your password in," he looks down after giving me a command I can't refuse.

Sighing, I type it in. "Your birthday isn't a good passcode," he tells me.

My eyes flick up. Number one- how did he catch the numbers so fast? Number two- how does he know my birthday?

His stare isn't friendly so I don't ask. Once the computer opens up, he opens Google Chrome. My last tab is still open.

"What's this?" he asks like he caught me watching porn.

"Financial Aid," I scoff.

"Right. I'm not an idiot," he quirks his brow. "What do you need Financial Aid for? Are you in school?"

"No," I fold my arms over my shoulders. "I wanted to be."

"And you're not because...?"

"Because I'm fucking here!" I fling my hands in the air. "And because I can't afford to go to school. And because my life is nothing but one big fucking disaster after another." My chest is heaving and he looks calm, which sets me on edge even more.

"Interesting," he says, handing over my laptop. Effectively dismissing me for the evening. He strolls out of the room and I want to slam the computer against the wall.