I want my father back.

It's amazing how much a person can change in a year. How someone can go from your favorite person in the world to the one you dread seeing, the one you only agree to see because you're forced to.
My parents have been divorced for thirteen years now, since I was two years old, and since my brother and sister were only a few months old. My mother used to be the one I never liked. I loved my father. I looked like he did; we had the same eyes, the same hair,same feet and the same wrists-skinny, with big hands attatched. I was what my father would be if he were a girl.
My brother and I both inherited his dyslexia. He saw the signs of it immediately, and it became a real problem for me in second grade, when I couldn't read yet, and all the other kids were reading before me. The teacher told my parents I was going to have to repeat the second grade.
My father tutored both me and my brother, never giving up, to tutor us out of our dyslexia. It never became a problem for me- I learned quickly with his help, but it took a bit longer for my brother. He read with us constantly, getting us used to the words and letters. He gave us reading material that we were interested in. The Wizard of Oz for me, and Marvel comic books for my brother- mostly Spiderman. This was the most important-it helped us learn quickly, and I learned to read and became a surprisingly great speller, too.
My father was kind and gentle. He was the one I went to when my mother was, well, less than motherly. He comforted me and my siblings and told us that it would be okay and he would take care of it.
My mother would get so mad at me for my horrible grades. My father said as long as I was trying, he was okay with it. He eventually became the one who saw all my bad grades, and my mother saw only the good ones.
My father helped me get into my dream high school, while my mother was forcing me towards a music program, when my interests, and heart, for that matter, was in animal science.
My father did so much for me. I could never be embarrassed of him in public-that would have been a horrible way of paying him back. Instead, I was the one who ran up to him for hugs in school. He was my hero, because, not only did he do all that for me, but he did the same for others, too. He would have risked his job, and possibly his life, to help someone else.
But now he's completely changed.
He wrote a book a little while ago, and it became controvercial. It's off shelves in the United States now, and he's not getting any money out of it. People are fighting to destroy his life, and I'm not saying that as an exaggeration. He hasn't gotten a penny in for a long time.
He's become a complete hypocrite out of all this. He always told us not to take out our anger for something on someone else, but that's all he's doing now. Taking out his anger on us. No "Good morning" in the mornings, just "Make your beds, now, now, NOW, NOW NOW!!!"
He's easily irritated and selfish and thinks he can do no wrong. All he talks about is himself and how horrible everything is. Repeating the same shit over and over. I get that he's stressed, but he's taking that out full force on me.
He's expecting me to get a full scholarship to Cornell and have a hundred average on my report card and literally save the world and do all of this and all of that. That's wayyyy to much pressure to put on a girl, and that's why my grades have been plummeting, because I know I can't live up to that. And also, because he used to be my greatest supporter...and now he's just a dick. So I've simply decided that he won't know about my grades anymore. When I tried to explain to him that my grades are lowering because he's putting too much pressure on me, he just said I was being spiteful. Alright. So now emotion is spite, becuase, like I said, nothing's ever his fault, apparently.
So that's it. When I'm forced to see him, I just ignore everything. He tries to talk to me, I just give a simple "Hm." Because I can't put up with this shit much longer. Someday i'm just gonna ask my mom if I can stay home on the weekend, because this man is not my father. He's not the man who tutored me out of my dyslexia. He's not the man who I came to with my bad grades, which I can't do anymore, because it's worse than the reaction I got from my mother. He's not the one who taught me all those life lessons, and used to repeat them over and over- he doesn't even stress how important they are anymore. I mean it when I say that everything that comes out of his mouth is about him.
He's not the father I grew up with, and I want that father back. But I'm starting to get the feeling that I'll never see him again.