I came downstairs and saw my uncle had arrived with the Feds. They wanted a definitive answer. They looked like they wanted to smash the entire room but uncle managed to calm them down. They did a lie detector test after which they left. They asked again to confess and save everyone the trouble. I pretended not to know anything so they left huffing. Uncle gave me a sad look, "Have they been taking good care of you? You seem to be doing better than you did when you were home."
I gave him a nod, "No drama from mom and dad. I wake up to a tidy room. I can play in there and have no concern about scraping my knees or ants biting me because of the stuff mom hides in my room so dad won't yell at her. I don't have to lie to dad. I don't have to hear dad yell at me for everything that mom does. I have a bathroom I can use whenever I want and mom won't come banging on the door. I can sit down and she will not come with her stuff and pile it all over the table till my teacup has no place on the huge furniture. She has diabetes and I am not allowed to eat chips or ice cream until she has a bite. If I remind her she is a diabetic she will yell at reminding me it was her money used to buy these things. One time I was sick and she promised to take me to the hospital she took me to the jewelry store and bought some silver bracelets. She brought me home and gave me over-the-counter meds. She forbade me to tell dad what she did. My bed is not spared her shopping. If that wasn't enough whenever she does laundry the stuff ends up on the empty half of the bed. I feel like mom is saying I am unwelcome. She is on the phone at 9 and she will spend it exchanging gossip. The second she gets something new she has to spend the rest of the day spreading it to all her friends. The only secret she keeps is her own. She is a hoarder but she uses all sorts of excuses. Like the ceiling breaking and flooding a room to cover the fact she has filled the living room. Also, she says some of the stuff belongs to big sister. She has to buy seven of everything or else she hasn't done a good job. She will use a few but the rest she will keep. By the time she even decides to use whatever it is. It is unusable and should be thrown out. If any spot is empty she has to fill it with boxes and God knows what. I am suffering from depression because of this. She could be considerate but she makes me feel like I am the villain. She is oblivious to the reason I am depressed. She pretends it is breaking news and says I have nothing to worry about. Even now I can promise you she is planning to fill my room with stuff. It is so filled with boxes my study table was sold to make room for her stuff. The only space I have is half of my bed. She has bought stuff and filled the other half. If I move out some of the stuff to the already crowded living room, she will yell at me, 'So you want your father to yell at me. Is that what you have in mind? What a horrible child you are. You will be worse than your siblings. Seven degrees worse than your siblings.' I simply ask her if I should sleep on the floor of dad's room. She would click her tongue in anger but won't say anything further. She is the reason I have back pain, these cuts on my hands. from the time I skipped and hit the window panes. And if she didn't fill every available space for her junk I would be fine. I just needed to get away from her. If I leave this place she will take me back and this drama will continue where it left off. I choose to stay here and be at peace. She needs someone to shop with and a scapegoat to take the blame and also someone to yell at so she can feel better. If anything goes missing she will scream nonstop till I find it. She is always paranoid that someone is trying to steal her things. If the cleaner shows up I have drop whatever I do to keep an eye on him." Uncle waved his hands to stop me. He realized that I could go on for hours if he didn't stop me. He gave me a sad look and asked me if the FBI were telling the truth about me being gifted. I laughed in a manner that convinced him that he was duped, the object of an April Fool's Prank. He wished me happiness and peace of mind before he stomped out of the Academy. He even gave me some money to spend as I see fit. He thought I deserved it.