Rette engelsk stil
Nogen der vil rette min engelske stil?
Here we go again. I’m sitting here, in my parents’ bedroom all by my self, while they’re at some fancy dinner party downtown. Well, the word, ”parents” is inappropriate, ‘cause it’s really just my dad and his wife, and I don’t consider her as my mom. When my mom died 2 years ago, he first broke down, and I couldn’t talk to him for several weeks. But as soon as he got better, he went out and found a new girlfriend. 3 months later they were married. It broke my heart that he never really talked to me about my mom. And he never really has the time now. Because of Jeanie, his wife, and because of his job. But sometimes it happens, that he asks if I want to go to the movies or something. I don’t like the movies. It’s so anti-social. Picture this: you’re sitting in a dark room, with loud sounds and a big screen. If you talk to the person sitting next to you, somebody just yell at you, and screaming that you should shut up. I hate going to the movies with my dad.
I don’t like Jeanie. She’s “new” in the family and she’s trying to control me. Telling me what to do, and stuff like that. Even though they’ve been married for a year, I still don’t want her near my father. And if I told her or my father that, they’d send me of to boarding school. I hate Jeanie - but not as much as I hate my father, for picking her to be his wife.
My mom’s name was Susan. She was the nicest woman ever. Our relationship was far from the one I had with my dad. My mom and I could talk about everything. School, work, girls, my dad and her, problems, joys and so on. But then the 5th of November, 2 years ago, she died. She killed her self in the bathroom. At that time we had a housekeeper, so it was her that found my mom lying on the bathroom floor. She had been slitting her wrist, and then she was bleeding to death. Massive bloods lose, the doctor said. She had left a letter on the desk, saying that she just couldn’t take it anymore, and that my dad could piss off whit that little whore. So I guess my dad was having an affair, but I never asked him about it.
After the episode with my mom I didn’t go to school for weeks. I was just lying on my bed, thinking and crying. Sometimes, my best friend Tim came over and supported me. When I got back to school, everybody was asking me about how I felt, and if I were OK. It was kind of nice, but somehow I just wanted that subject out of my life, and just move on. My teacher arranged some sessions with the school-shrink. She was very helpful, and after a few sessions she thought I was ready to go on without seeing her. And I was, but then you watch a movie or see something in the media, where someone is taking their own life, and then you get flashbacks and you get depressed. But I was working on controlling my depressions when they came, ‘cause I’m sure, that my mom didn’t mean to take this out on me.
Well, I’m actually sitting here in my “parents” bedroom while they’re out, because I’m grounded. Some kid at school was saying something about my mom, and I just lost it. So I beat him up. I didn’t get kicked out of school or anything, ‘cause the kid was begging me to beat him up. My principal called my dad and sent me home. So I went home and watched “FRIENDS” in the living room. When my dad came home, he was furious. He yelled at me, and told me that I was grounded.
Didn’t he understand the concept in what I did? I did it because some little kid was talking about something he shouldn’t be talking about and something that he knew nothing about. And there was my dad, standing in front of me, screaming how lousy I was, just because I defended my mom. That man is totally messed up. I don’t see why he doesn’t just send me away, to live with my grandparents or something. They would take care of me, and they’d be delighted to have me, living with them. And they live downtown, so it’s close to school. Somehow I should be able to convince my dad that it’s the best thing to do, ‘cause it’s driving me crazy living here with Jeanie and him.
Their bedroom reminds me of my mom, because it’s in here we used to talk about everything. Sometimes I would skip school and she’d call in sick from work just so we could spend some time together. My mom understood me much better then my dad, and paid more attention to me, then my dad did. My dad would never skip work to spend time with me – never. He’s a workaholic, and he spends most of his time at the office, doing paperwork. “He’s a busy man,” my mom used to say. She loved him very much, and he loved her.
When my dad was going on a buisnesstrip, my mother always stayed home with me. Now, my dad and Jeanie always goes everywhere together. It’s like they are addicted to each other. We never go out, all together – Not because I care. I don’t really want to spend time with those two, but sometimes it would be nice with some attention once in a while.
Basically my problems are my dad. My step mom. My mom, not being here anymore. My school. And my physical condition. Because, I’m not OK. I’m far from OK, actually. I don’t know what to do now. Just sit here and wait for them to come home, and wait for a new day to start – a day there’s just like every other day. It’s depressing to know…
Here we go again. I’m sitting here, in my parents’ bedroom all by my self, while they’re at some fancy dinner party downtown. Well, the word, ”parents” is inappropriate, ‘cause it’s really just my dad and his wife, and I don’t consider her as my mom. When my mom died 2 years ago, he first broke down, and I couldn’t talk to him for several weeks. But as soon as he got better, he went out and found a new girlfriend. 3 months later they were married. It broke my heart that he never really talked to me about my mom. And he never really has the time now. Because of Jeanie, his wife, and because of his job. But sometimes it happens, that he asks if I want to go to the movies or something. I don’t like the movies. It’s so anti-social. Picture this: you’re sitting in a dark room, with loud sounds and a big screen. If you talk to the person sitting next to you, somebody just yell at you, and screaming that you should shut up. I hate going to the movies with my dad.
I don’t like Jeanie. She’s “new” in the family and she’s trying to control me. Telling me what to do, and stuff like that. Even though they’ve been married for a year, I still don’t want her near my father. And if I told her or my father that, they’d send me of to boarding school. I hate Jeanie - but not as much as I hate my father, for picking her to be his wife.
My mom’s name was Susan. She was the nicest woman ever. Our relationship was far from the one I had with my dad. My mom and I could talk about everything. School, work, girls, my dad and her, problems, joys and so on. But then the 5th of November, 2 years ago, she died. She killed her self in the bathroom. At that time we had a housekeeper, so it was her that found my mom lying on the bathroom floor. She had been slitting her wrist, and then she was bleeding to death. Massive bloods lose, the doctor said. She had left a letter on the desk, saying that she just couldn’t take it anymore, and that my dad could piss off whit that little whore. So I guess my dad was having an affair, but I never asked him about it.
After the episode with my mom I didn’t go to school for weeks. I was just lying on my bed, thinking and crying. Sometimes, my best friend Tim came over and supported me. When I got back to school, everybody was asking me about how I felt, and if I were OK. It was kind of nice, but somehow I just wanted that subject out of my life, and just move on. My teacher arranged some sessions with the school-shrink. She was very helpful, and after a few sessions she thought I was ready to go on without seeing her. And I was, but then you watch a movie or see something in the media, where someone is taking their own life, and then you get flashbacks and you get depressed. But I was working on controlling my depressions when they came, ‘cause I’m sure, that my mom didn’t mean to take this out on me.
Well, I’m actually sitting here in my “parents” bedroom while they’re out, because I’m grounded. Some kid at school was saying something about my mom, and I just lost it. So I beat him up. I didn’t get kicked out of school or anything, ‘cause the kid was begging me to beat him up. My principal called my dad and sent me home. So I went home and watched “FRIENDS” in the living room. When my dad came home, he was furious. He yelled at me, and told me that I was grounded.
Didn’t he understand the concept in what I did? I did it because some little kid was talking about something he shouldn’t be talking about and something that he knew nothing about. And there was my dad, standing in front of me, screaming how lousy I was, just because I defended my mom. That man is totally messed up. I don’t see why he doesn’t just send me away, to live with my grandparents or something. They would take care of me, and they’d be delighted to have me, living with them. And they live downtown, so it’s close to school. Somehow I should be able to convince my dad that it’s the best thing to do, ‘cause it’s driving me crazy living here with Jeanie and him.
Their bedroom reminds me of my mom, because it’s in here we used to talk about everything. Sometimes I would skip school and she’d call in sick from work just so we could spend some time together. My mom understood me much better then my dad, and paid more attention to me, then my dad did. My dad would never skip work to spend time with me – never. He’s a workaholic, and he spends most of his time at the office, doing paperwork. “He’s a busy man,” my mom used to say. She loved him very much, and he loved her.
When my dad was going on a buisnesstrip, my mother always stayed home with me. Now, my dad and Jeanie always goes everywhere together. It’s like they are addicted to each other. We never go out, all together – Not because I care. I don’t really want to spend time with those two, but sometimes it would be nice with some attention once in a while.
Basically my problems are my dad. My step mom. My mom, not being here anymore. My school. And my physical condition. Because, I’m not OK. I’m far from OK, actually. I don’t know what to do now. Just sit here and wait for them to come home, and wait for a new day to start – a day there’s just like every other day. It’s depressing to know…