“Mom, tone it done.” I begged.

“TONE IT DOWN? YOU NINCOMPOOP! Do you think that it’s free to send you to school? That I just have a bunch of money hidden somewhere and I don’t mind wasting it on you? I buy you designer shoes and clothes so your friends don’t make fun of you. You have all the books you need and an expensive Mac computer or whatever it’s called. You show me NO gratitude!” she screamed even louder.

“Honey, calm down!” my dad said, looking a bit afraid. My little sisters sat in the corner quietly.

“YOU SHUT UP! He’s like this because of you! He didn’t inherit this idiotic behavior from me. YOU made that boy STUPID! And I’m sick of him! And you!” she shouted and stormed up to her room.

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