My eyes burned as I wiped them clean of tears that I have been shedding for the past hour. Thinking about what my parents said, i was leaving tonight.

I didn't to pack, maybe if I waited for the last moment to pack we'd end up late and miss the flight.

But.. they didn't want me.

So why should I keep bugging them? I really should leave so they wouldn't hate me as much.

Remembering the times when I used to bother my dad so we could hang out together but he'd just ignore me and say I was being annoying, or when I'd ask my mom a question but she wouldn't answer saying I should figure it out myself.

Or when I'd ask my group of friends at school what was happening in the middle of class because I often spaced out, they'd just shun me as if I were some leech they couldn't rid of.

After all of these years I never really became independent. Maybe I'd annoyed everyone to the point they hated me? And just being a homosexual added onto the growing tension in our family that I was so oblivious to?

They... really hated me.. huh.

Then again I can't really blame them, I hate myself as well. My voice was annoying, even to me. My body was ugly, I have wider hips than normal guys do and I'm not the most fit. My face definitely has too many flaws to count, it's almost hideous. I'm always conscious about something. I could never focus on anything in class, thus my reason for having shitty grades.

I started packing my clothes, lost in my thoughts. Grabbing mostly my larger hoodies, black skinny jeans, a few shirts, and a few other necessities. Along with my high top chucks and vans.

If it weren't for my hoodies, I probably could fit it all in one backpack. But I decided against it and brought a suitcase as well as a backpack, which held a few of my beanies, Bunny, a sketchbook that I rarely use along with some pencils and erasers, and in the secret compartment of the bag, my vape supplies, some cheap cigarettes I managed to hide for a couple of years without even touching. I found one of my old box cutters and stuffed that into my suitcase, just in case.

I've always had a plan locked in the back of my mind, it definitely isn't the best idea in the world but, I'm a selfish moron and I only do what I want when I'm at my lowest points. And I'm more than positive that I'm going to love destroying myself over the next few months. Especially when I have no one to really live for. My parents don't want me, and it hurts. But I'll move on. And hopefully, they will too after I die.

As I finished packing my belongings, a knock sounded at my door and a few moments later my mother entered, hesitance and regret written all over her. It was obvious she wasn't the one to come up with the idea of sending me off to some freak-fixing bible study house or something. (No offence ik not ever Christian/catholic or whatever thinks like that)

"Hey, Avey" she said with her sweet and angelic voice. A nickname she gave me as a child.

"We're going to wait downstairs for you, sweetie. We're going to leave soon so don't dally"

"... yeah ok" I replied. Forcing myself to concentrate on my bags so I wouldn't look at her. Everything about them made me sick. But I still loved them with everything ever.

She left without another word, closing my door ever so silently. I listened as the soft thumps of her feet faded, and I looked around my room one last time.

I wonder what they'd do with it while I'm gone. Keep it the same way? It's only a little less than a year before I'm legally allowed to live on my own. By then I'll probably be dead anyway. Would they keep it the same? Or actually make use of an unused room.

With my dad, he'd probably turn it into another office out of the 2 he already has.

I got up and slung my backpack over my shoulder and dragged the suitcase behind me as I reached the lower floor of our home.. or my old home.

Once I saw my parents sitting in the living room quietly waiting, I made myself noticed by "coughing" obnoxiously a few times. They both looked up at me, my dad giving me a harsh glare while my mom turned her head back down.

They both headed to the garage and I I followed in a close distance. When we reached the car, I set my suitcase in the trunk and sat in the back of the car while they took the front seats.

As we sat in the car I let my mind wander once again to be in my own little world where no one, not even myself, hated me.

But soon enough we were only a couple of minutes from the airport. The radio was quietly playing old songs and I decided to be the star of the show.

"So how was your guy's day?" I asked quite loudly.

No one responded for a while, then my dad spat at me, "Avery do not make this harder for us."

I scoffed harshly, "Harder? You seem pretty relived to kick me out of the house like some disease infested rat!"

He sighed, "Avery, we're all on edge. No one wants to give you away. We love you very much that's why were sending you there."

I sat in my seat shocked to say the least. I was pissed.

He parked the car near the entrance.

"You fucking bastard! You don't give a slap shit about me! I've seen how you are with mom, treating her like she's some whore you just picked up on the street! You only give a single damn about your own self you selfish fucker!" I screamed out.

Mom flinched when I mentioned her.

"Leave my wife out of this! She has nothing to do with you leaving our house."

"Exactly!" I screamed, "You're the one sending me away! You're the one who didn't accept me! Fuck you!" I felt like my ears were on fire as I hopped out of the car, slamming the door in the process, and taking my suitcase and leaving without another word.