I saunter in through the front door and toss my backpack across the living room, apathetic about where it lands. Tears stream down my face nonstop as I dash up the stairs and make my way to my room. I barely make it to my bed without tripping over the sea of my belongings just scattered about. I then propel myself onto my bed and cry my heart out, in anger, pain, and frustration. I lay there in the dark for a few hours, my mind blank and my heart feeling very heavy. I sit up and my eyes land on the teddy bear and roses, which are now brown and withered, that he had given me three weeks ago. This sight seems to make my blood boil even more. I grab both the teddy bear and roses and chuck them out the window. I watch them land on the grass in the front yard and slam my window shut. I take in a huge gulp of air, hold it for a few seconds, and let it out slowly. I can now feel my once tense muscles begin to relax. I hear someone unlocking the front door. I run into the bathroom and splash some cold water onto my face. I look in the mirror and acknowledge my bloodshot red eyes and puffy cheeks. I can't let my dad see me like this. He will ask a million questions and I won't have the audacity to answer them with honesty. I can now hear his footsteps coming up the stairs and my heart begins to race, faster and faster, as if it's running a relay race.
             I frantically wipe my face with a towel and walk out of the bath room, making sure I turn off the lights. I notice that I never closed the door when I ran into my room earlier. I now see my dad's silhouette creeping closer and closer to my doorway. I fix my clothes and try to act as normal as possible. My dad's face peers into my room, his head almost touching the door frame. He greets me and stares at me for a while. I think he can see right through my facade. I feel myself tensing up and hear myself blurt out, "I'm just tired that's all." He stares at me for a few more seconds then walks awa...