Eight

“What’s really happening Blake? You have completely changed. This isn’t the boy I knew back in Virginia. Are you depressed?”

Blake sent a quizzical look his parent’s way. He dropped his fork and got to his feet, picking up his backpack.

“You better sit back down, Mister. Because we’re not done talking. Your mother is talking to you and you will sit your filthy ass down and listen to her,” Mr. Cooper clamored.

Blake halted and slowly turned. He looked at the both of them in disbelief. They’ve been on his neck for the past few weeks, asking ridiculous questions like why does he go to bed early or why does he frequently eat dinner in his room.

These are one of the reasons why he couldn’t wait to save enough to move out of the house. He loves them but they annoy him so much that it made him feel the urge to leave the house and never return.

“If I spend another five minutes here, I’d be late for work,” he said calmly. He didn’t want to fight anymore. “And for the last time, mom. I am n