Why do I bother?

Honestly, some days -- most days -- I don't know why I bother trying. Trying what you ask? Trying anything. Take for example yesterday; I get the results of an essay I'd written -- 70% -- which was great for me, considering that before then I was generally only just scraping a pass. Consequently, I was in a good mood, a bloody brilliant one in fact.

I was gloating and strutting and proud of myself, I got a 70% in lit!! I was stoked -- note the -was- here people-- I get off the bus and start walking home, no problem. I was still in a good mood, got around 3/4 the way home and mother dearests boyfriend picks me up, I say hi.

Silence.

Are you alright?

Got some growled reply with the general gist of me not caring that he's had a foul day. I lapse into silence, when you try to be friendly and get snarled at, prudence tells you to shut up.

So, getting home, mother dearest asks; how was your day?

Pretty good -- it had been, up until then you understand?

good because it's about to go to shit.

Okay?

Okay?! -- in that mocking, patronising tone, you know the one, where they're mocking your ignorance, like you should already know what they're about to go off their nut at you for.

So I dump my stuff in my room and go back out. Fifteen minutes later I discover what the problem is-- I didn't say 'good morning' to the boyfriend this morning.

I get my arse chewed out and accused of being a rude little bitch that had better change her attitude or she'll be -walking- everywhere, like I haven't heard that fucking threat before. I can deal with that, I don't mind walking/riding/getting places under my own steam -- I dont' care, it's what happens.

But what got me -really- riled and upset, so much so that I'm -crying- as I write this-- fucking weak of me I know-- is that mother dearest said 'and because you fucked up last night (sunday night) you don't have your internet priviledges on Sunday'

As if it wasn't enough taht she's fucking cut down my sadly pathetic social life to one seventh of what it was-- she now has to remove it entirely! Why, I ask you, do I fucking bother? I do good in my studies, I behave as best as I can and for what? For -this-?!

Oh and get this, the reason mother dearest was 'explaining' this to me was because her boyfriend wanted to slap me!
Quote verbatum; the only thing that stopped me from beating you this morning, was the shit I'd get into when your mother came home and saw you bleeding on the floor. Karate or no karate, I've been kicked by a cow and compared to that your puny fists won't stop me.

So.

I am going to be really, really stupid and confront him tomorrow. Provoke the prick, fucking challenge him. You wanted to beat me yesterday, leave me bleeding on the floor you said, mother heard you, so why don't you eh? what's stopping you from beating me until i'm bleeding, lying on the floor? You said my karate was useless, so go ahead, fucking hit me! I'm sure once you explain this to mother dearest she won't blame you, knowing my pox-rotted luck she'd throw -me- out. Go on, hit me, mess up my so called pretty face, fuck up my body, do some -real- damage, then maybe you'll stop fucking lusting after me and keep your eyes where they fucking belong!

If that doesn't provoke him enough I'lls tart getting violent with more than words. Oh don't hit girls? That wouldn't have made a difference to you yesterday!

I am royally pissed off/upset/whatever.

Then, once he'd done that, I'll run away. Screw school, screw their plans for me, I'll apply for uni once I"m 21 as a mature aged studen. But first I'll fucking vanish from their life. And if that doesn't work? Well, we all know I've got a lovely sharp knife in my handbag...

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Okay, that was yesterday written, I didn't get beating. Coward that I am.