FicWad

I decided to walk to the institute down the street. I had plenty of time to brute and think about the stupidity of my actions.
I'm always stuck in a loop, I'm always depressed. I always want to die. My story isn't sad anymore, I'm pathetic. I need to stop looming in the past, my mom won't come back to life, there's nothing I can do anymore. I've already constantly took the blame for her suicide, being the only sane one in my family theres nothing more I could do. I fell under the pressure of trying to make my life seem normal, trying to get my family to sympathize but it never happened. Lacking apathy and common human emotions made both my brother and father completely unbearable. I don't live with either, I collect money from my mother's death and my father's disability and live on my own. Also, pathetic, I receive money for my misfortunes and can't even hold down a steady job.

I looked up and realized I was already at the receptionist's desk, she already knew what I was there for. She walked me down the hall and unlocked the door "136." I sighed and looked at my father who was on the ground playing with sonic action figures, making noises and screaming almost at an unbearable volume. "Hello!" I say softly. He looks up and kind of giggles, "what are you doing here!?" I just kind of smile at his childish actions and try not to eat away at me that my dad is stuck in some bizarre mental state that can go to innocent to violent in just a matter of seconds.

I sat down on the floor and attempt to play with his toys with him, he didn't mind. I talked to him lightly about school and my interest in art work. He retained most of it but also mocked my interests, I figured I should just be happy he's not in a fit of anger. I then told him about how Dave, my brother, was doing good at his new job. Which I'm not sure is true, but I'm hoping he's doing fine and actually has a job. Father seemed amazed. Dave though has aspergers and doesn't quite handle things emotionally the same way as most people do, so he refuses to see father and I don't like to speak to him for that reason, he couldn't even cry at mom's funeral. He couldn't even pretend like he cared, Father I understood a bit more for his insensitivity. They both frustrated me to no end though.

Father soon started to ask more about Dave and the question of why he hasn't seen him in so long came up. I tried to tell him that he was simply very busy with his new job but he didn't seem to buy it. He soon started throwing his hands on the ground, forcing them to painfully smack on the ground. "Please, Dad." I said trying to calm him. He then stopped with his hands on the ground and looked at me with wild eyes before forcing pressure on his palms causing him to begin bending his wrists back to breaking point. I screamed as the doctors came in, reacting to all the noise that was being irrupted from this room. They sedated him, causing me to run out screaming. Needles scared me, needles hurting the only person I had scared me even more.

I had to go home anyways, it was getting dark and I had school tomorrow.