Note.

Mother and I fought just now.

We fought after a really long time.

I can’t live in this house anymore.

I’m fed up.

I spoke about everything that happened.

I’m fed up with everything, so I spoke about everything.

Father said, Admit her in the hospital.

So I started shouting.

After everything that I went through, a normal person wouldn’t say that to me.

I’m fed up of living in this house.

I’m fed up of existing in this reality.

I’m fed up of waiting.

What’s going on?

Why am I waiting this way?