When I Came Home

I came back from a place where a couple close people in my life cared and wanted me and i go home to hell. I am in my room thinking about how bad a person i am. Outside my room, i hear yelling, crying, and things being thrown. I’m scared. I hate this. I just heard my mom say something about divorce. My parents dont want us kids. We are hopeless and trouble makers to them. they say it soo much i start to believe. I want to show them up and show them that they are wrong beyond belief BUT then again i let it get to me and sink it in and want to kill myyself. They hate us. I hate us, well me. I need to leave and go away. I am so good at running away. My life is no longer a life. I have no reason to be here. I at least dont want to be home. My dad just might come in my room and slap me up for i dont know. I am tired of it. My mom takes off, while crying. I think she’s overacting but idk. I am like her so much. She blames herself way too much. I do that too. If i die, by suicide, my mom would get hell from my dad and they would both be in pain from losing another kid. I honestly dont know what they think of me. I dont want to know because it might change everything i ever thought. If i leave and go on to college, it wouldnt be a big deal because there is no love in this house i call hell. No Love.No Life. No Hope. Nothing.