our house is like a dollhouse. other people see our family as perfect. high class, perfect marrage, two perfect children. everyone thinks that we're perfect, please dont let them look through the purple curtians.
its me, kurloz, and my brother gamzee, and my mother and father, gabe and gabriellia. dad is the ceo of a multimillonaire soda company, and mom is a stay at home. ha, thats what everyone thinks. in reality, mom stays home drunk, dad fucks his secretery, and gamzee smokes cannabis. i dont talk to anyone much, and im almost old enough to move out of this hell. oh motherfuck, mom woke up.
"KURLOZ MOTHERFUCKING MAKARA GET IN HERE" i reluctently walk in. she had dropped her bottle, shattering it. "whats this?" shes still drunk. "you dropped your bottle." "while i was asleep. now, you couldnt take it upon yourself to help your dear mother, who raised you from a baby, who clothed and fed you, and clean it?" she rasies her hand. i flinch, and she puts it down. "clean it basterd." she stomps out.
it took half and hour to clean, before gamzee walked into the living room, reeking of pot. "hey bro, what the motherfuck happened here?" "mom fell asleep and shattered her wine bottle" "oh" he chuckles as he walks upstairs. i clean it up, then dad comes home. he has lipstick on his coller, and he smells of perfume.
two hours later, we all sit around the table, eating dinner and drinking faygo. "gamzee, how was school?" gamzee chuckles "a motherfuckin miricle" "kurloz, how was your day as a dropout?" "boring as all hell" :good that should teach you to stay in school and become something thats not useless" i pick at my food, thinking very rude things to myself. i accedently mutter "not as useless as mom", resulting in a smack from both paretns and yelling for twenty minutes.
that night, im alone in my room, and i get my trusty razor. i carve into a peice of plywood, my parents way to get me to stop cutting. i "almost ruined their reputation" when my scars showed.