There's No Place Like Hell

My eyes' open to nothing but darkness. I turn over to look at the clock and see that it's 3 AM. These middle of the night awakenings have become more and more frequent since I left home two weeks ago. Funny to think of that place as home. I like to think of it as more of a prison that I have been locked up in for the last 18 years of my life. Life at home was anything but pleasant, living with my mom, my step-sister, and a five year old trapped in my step-father's body. Okay so maybe there was no child trapped in my step dad's body but he sure did act like a child. My mom a successful business woman who's only fault was marrying my step dad, Jim. My mom loved me and I loved her too but the fact that she married this man blocked out any love that I had for her. My step father worked at a local YMCA and did not make very much money, but that was okay because he could live off of my mom's pay check. Then there was my step sister, a girl with a lot of issues but, who could blame her for she has lived with her father her whole life. My mother remarried right before I went into the sixth grade. In elementary school I was always a good student but when my step father moved in that all changed. Through out middle and high school my grades steadily dropped. I don't think anyone can understand what hell it was to live with this man because any one who didn't know him well thought he was very nice. Maybe that's what bothered me most about him, to us he was always angry and had to have everything his way, but to people who didn't live with him he was very nice. Now understand the only reason my mom never divorced him is because she couldn't stand to have another failed marriage. Jim is probably the least intelligent adult that I have ever known and that, in my opinion is what always got him so angry because he was too stupid to realise that the things he would freak out about were in fact nothing to get worked up about at all. For example, when I was allowed to use one of the family cars, a friend left some work clothes in the trunk that were not in the way of anything. So a couple days after the clothes had been left in the trunk I get one of these calls from my mom that I would get quite frequently.
         My mom says, "Who's clothes are in the trunk of the car?" In the background of the call I can hear Jim getting angry at my mom because of the clothes but I cannot make out what he's saying.
         "One of my friend's left his work clothes in the car." I replied.
         "Well can you call him and have him come get the clothes." She says.
I tell her that I will talk to him soon about getting his clothes. Then later that day my mom brings the clothes from the car and puts them outside the door to my room.
Now this is what bothers me is that these clothes got my step dad all worked up and for why. I know he was not planning to haul anything in the trunk that the clothes would get in the way of. The reason he got mad is that he did not know who's clothes they were, except for the fact that they weren't his and this made him angry.