My dad gets angry real easy. One time he came at me and I didn't know what to do so I kicked him. He flew across the bathroom into the bathtub he was knocked out cold my mother told me she hated me and called me demonic and evil. She told me to get out and never come back again. I was homeless for well after a month after that. But for some reason I felt happy, I roamed the forests and the streets at night and collected quarters laying on the streets to buy sausages. I also caught fish and crayfish and boiled them twice and ate them. I would also sell fish and crayfish to my friends mother who gladly gave me 2 bucks for 10 crayfish. I felt Independent and happy. I started to sleep on a hill that just overlooked the road and that became my new home. One day a bad storm was about to sweep in so I quickly ran into the nearest department store. There was a kid there my age and I befriended him and he asked if I could spend the night at his house (I hadn't told him I was homeless). Well I stayed at his house for two days I finally told his parents what happened. I guess when I was sleeping they called my mom because she was at the door the next morning. She was claiming to them that I ran away for no reason at all. She drove me home that night.
All that because I told my Dad I didn't beleive in god. He still never really talks to me.
Those are just the little things a lot more happened when I was homeless than That.
Sorry for takin up so much space.
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