taken this story from http://www.collegestories.com/StoryView.aspx?sid=4038&page=1
If anything goes wrong, you
could always blame it on your parents. It’s their divorce, their
excessive attention, neglect, their lack of money, them having too much
money, them being weird, sometimes, you don’t know why, but you just
hate them anyways.
My parents knew I loved them. What they didn’t know,
was that I actually hated them both. Mommy cried too much. Daddy could
be having an affair. Mommy was weak. Daddy was an asshole. I couldn’t
say that to their faces; they were too nice.
I hated the thought of my dad having an affair. I was never
sure of this, though. But anyhow, if he had less money, he wouldn’t
have the nerve to spend money on someone else besides our family.
So, what do I do? Use up his money. Steal his money. Use it on my
friends to buy beer, drugs, throw parties. Anything. Just have a reason
to use it, rather than having someone else use it up.
I started flunking. I used to be a smart kid. But I didn’t care. When I
found out I was flunking, I thought it was a better way of getting his
attention.
One day, I found myself doing it on purpose. I was already in
one of those nice expensive colleges. I thought, what the heck, let him
waste his money on me rather than waste it on someone else. I made him
pay for classes I never attended. I made him pay for books, and
clothes, and gasoline. I didn’t care. I made him pay.
I got kicked out of that school. I didn’t care either. I
picked the most expensive college I could think of, and transferred
there. I’d make him spend more money on me, I thought.
I didn’t stop. I wasted his money. Really, I didn’t care. I was wasting
his money. I was wasting my time too. I didn’t care. He deserved it, or
so I thought.
One day, I hit rock bottom. I found myself sitting near the toilet with
a hangover, wondering where my friends were. Then it hit me, they were
all in school. They had classes. I didn’t have anything else to do that
day. I had dropped all my classes.
My dad works abroad. He had the money for us to go visit him
anytime we wanted to. Usually, my mom goes to spend time with him. He
likes having us over because he lived alone. One day, me and my sister
went, because obviously, I had a lot of free time. I was going to spend
his money on shopping.
He wasn’t there when my sister and I got to his place. I checked his
refrigerator to get us food. I started crying when I saw what was
inside.
It was nearly empty. There were a lot of ketchup packets from fast food
restaurants. There was airplane food from his flights. There was
leftover instant noodles in a styrofoam bowl. It was pathetic. I felt
so sorry for him. He spent all the free time he had with us during that
trip. He always does that. He was so nice. I felt more awful.
When I got back, I realized how much I’ve destroyed myself because of
hatred. I had no future, a bad social life, and a conscience, finally.
I’m trying to fix things up in school now. It really makes me
sick that he still has to pay for my school. I would’ve graduated by
now if I hadn’t screwed things up. I’m really trying to get back on
track. I can’t ask my dad to buy me anything anymore. Shopping now
makes me feel sick. One day, I’m going to pay him back, I swear. Right
now, all I could do is make sure he’s happy by doing well in school.
It’s not easy. But I deserve it. I know.
glad the child felt guilty of what he / she had done, and wake up in time