You know, I kept telling myself, since the divorce 6 months ago I thought you were just loosing it, because you were sad I wasn't around. But really.. you've always been like this. I come over and there's still drugs on the table. You're falling over, slurring you're words. Dad yells out the window from his wheelchair "Veronica, get in the car you're coming with me."

"No she's not going with you, You don't have custody! Veronica get the fuck inside."

"Are you drunk!?"

"Nopftttt, I was babysitting all last night!"

I sit on the couch.

"WAIT!"

He pulls back in the driveway.

"Jussscht fucking leavfft, i don't want to hear you sittffing here and yellingsh at me."

"Please, I don't want to go" *Tears streaming* "Please, I've been wanting to come all weekend."

"Go, I don't wanfffpht you here."

"Fine."

I'm not you're punching bag. I'm not a little kid, I understand what is going on, You can't hide things from me anymore. And I'm really starting to get sick of you're shit.