Come home to see the lights on in my bedroom and the curtains open, though I had left them off and closed, respectively. Rush upstairs to find my older brother, the one who broke my expensive desk sort of recently, tipping over my book case and ripping up books. I was, quite understandably, enraged enough to engage him in fisticuffs. I sort of punch--choke-dragged him out into the hallway and bull rushed him into the door to his room and started to leave, when he gets up and whales on me with these little metal stick things. I'm pretty god damn lucky my other older brother was home and that he beat the shit out of him. Cool older bro called my dad and got him to come home early, and I thought asshole bro was going to be evicted this time after, y'know, beating me with metal rods. Nope! I'm the asshole son who has to pay to replace the door, buy all the materials for fixing holes in the walls, and do both tasks myself. I'm also in trouble for 'starting' the fight, will not get compensation for any of my books, and am to write an apology to asshole bro.
I am bleeding from my head, I am quite certain that my left hand and foot are broken, I was crying with pain until cool bro got me some painkillers. They took away my keys, so I have to convince my parents that I need an X-ray, and the convincing process is not going well. Living here just makes me feel sick and angry all the time.