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So here I sit, alone in the darkest room in my house. I'm freezing cold, alone and dying for a ciggerate. In my left hand I hold a cup of coffee, I use my right hand to type. To my left is a large window, it overlooks a valley of roofs and tree tops. The sun is gently setting over the far hill. I sit here in my black clothes, clothes in which I hide from the world. And everything is relatively peaceful.

And the door bangs open, my annoying sisters run in, abnoxiously screaming and shouting about everything and nothing. Mayhem corrupts the peaceful house, and now I sit here longing for them to f**k off.

S**t holes.