Almost been five years now. I still have vivid images of the scenario. Everyday, when I came home from school, as soon as I got off the bus, I would look at the window, and could only see the silhouette of him. Tall and lanky. I would get upset, annoyed. I would walk away unwillingly towards the front door. I knew as soon as I opened it, I would be trapped. I always wanted to just get in my room and talk on the phone. I didn't want him around me. I took the key out. It was amazing. It opened only our door. And that door, was the door to hell. Or so I thought. Why did I have the key. Why couldn't I have the key to freedom. Which would open the door of peace.
             The big hand would just turn to four when I reached home. He would take up more than an hour of my time, everyday. As soon as I entered the door, the smell of strong spices and herbs would rush their way to my nose. It would make things worse. Remind me of how my time would be soon wasted. "I'm so glad your home, come wash your hands and sit down. I made your favourite dish today." I would sigh and do as I was told. It was the usual quote. I would continue with a grin on my face the whole time. A sense of frustration. He would always ask if I wanted him to feed me. "I'm a big girl now grandpa, I know how to feed myself." He would just smile. Thinking back now, that smile wasn't happy, it was love.
             I would stuff my mouth as fast as I could. I knew my best friend was home by now. "how was your day?" "It was fine grandpa" I couldn't stand if when he talked. He was so annoying. He would just get on my nerves very quickly. I only have a little patience, and he would always go overboard.
             That was only during the week. I loved the week, not as much as the weekend though. He loved annoying me during the week, not as much as the weekend though. I have no responsibilities in the weekend. All I ever wanted to do is t
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