Chapter 70 - May 22nd, 2020 - 9:03 A.M.

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As soon as I got home and said hello to my mother, I went straight to my room. Seeing my father's alternate side made me want to punch something or at least listen to music on full blast. That's the greatest feeling right there, blasting good music, I mean. And if you have one of those 5.1 or 7.1 surround sound speakers, I bet it sounds even better. My ultimate wish is to hear the song Money by Pink Floyd in surround sound; it would be like being at a concert. I'd kill to see that Pulse tour they did, you know, the one where David Gilmour plays a four-minute guitar solo during Comfortably Numb? Sickest concert ever!

I went with the latter option and put on Never Again by Nickelback turning it up to the maximum volume. I knew that I'd probably drive my neighbors insane with my loud music, but I didn't give a crap at that moment. Besides, it's not like I was playing anything terrible... You may be asking why I picked that song; it helps me deal with my homicidal thoughts against my uncle with its lyrics. I've never once heard him say that he loved either Grace or me; he only loves booze, money, and playing Texas hold 'em poker with his alcoholic cronies. Once, he even invited me to play and drink with him while drunk as a skunk. I reminded Dante that I was underage, and I remember he casually replied with, "Eh, so what? If nobody saw it, it never happened. Who cares about laws and rules? I know I sure as hell don't."

After he went to sleep, I poured his bottles of Bacardi down the kitchen sink. The next day, he found out and split my lip. Real stand-up guy, I know...

I just want my dad to be normal again. Is that too much to ask for?

After that, I played Civil War by Guns N' Roses to calm myself down. My mother loves that song, and I don't blame her; it makes me emotional. My dad once showed me the movie the song's intro sampled, Cool Hand Luke; I thought it was really dull. A film I like that's not too exciting is Johnny Got His Gun; it's what turned me into a pacifist. War sucks for everyone but the rich; they send all the poor high school graduates to die for them. Let me get this straight, at eighteen, I can die fighting for my country, but I can't enjoy a goddamn drink?

As I was listening to it, my dad walked into my room and, with an annoyed expression, told me to turn the music way down. This wasn't like him in the least; he typically loved the music I played, no matter how loud it was. It's crazy how someone can change overnight for the worse; it's like they wake up a completely different person.

"Fine," I grumbled as I turned it down.

After he left, I listened to music with headphones since I could listen to it as loudly as I wanted to. I looked everywhere for my Panasonic RP-HJE125-Z headphones and finally found them in the strangest location possible. Somehow, they ended up inside one of my drawers. I grabbed them and put the earphones in.

I played Not Gonna Die by Skillet and just laid on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I first heard Skillet when I was around thirteen; I still remember listening to Monster for the first time and falling in love with the band. It became a part of the holy trinity of metal bands for me; the three were Slipknot, Skillet, and Linkin Park. It's a shame that Chester isn't with us anymore, though...

As I stared at the ceiling, I started hallucinating the weirdest things; one bizarre thing I saw was Jeff Goldblum's head rotating 360 degrees as if he were possessed. I do not know why I hallucinated that to this day, but I must admit that I found it amusing.

Bones? What are those?

After that strange hallucination, I started seeing random bright blue math problems in my handwriting and me playing Titan Quest. The latter hallucination tripped me out because I actually saw myself sitting on my computer and playing the game. I called out to myself quietly to see what would happen. The hallucination looked at me and waved. Not gonna lie; that creeped me out a bit.

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