Welcome to Goria

The first day of high school was too, stereotypical. I walked around with my schedule in my hand wishing I had some sort of map to guide me places but I didn't. I asked teachers which way to turn and they all pointed me down twisted hallways unto my classes. Each teacher said the same exact thing, "This is where your life begins." So many of the children just sat there thinking, "this is just school; how can this be anything important?" but I sat in the back like a good boy and said nothing but just thought to myself about what the teachers said. They were right. Life began for everyone and for me especially during that year. My father became very sick that year which I will get into very soon. My first three months of school were step-by-step routined. I did the same exact boring thing every single night. Came home to mother asking me how my day was, my father reading the paper then asking the exact same question, I would eat dinner, do my homework, read a little bit if I had the time then go to bed. Three months into it there was a large fight in my family that changed everything. One solemn day my mother was playing her little piano quietly until her and I both heard a very loud yell upstairs. I ran upstairs but my mother stayed there playing her piano. The door to my parent's room was closed and locked and my father was yelling to himself in there.
 "What the fuck?! What the fuck is this?! How dare you! How dare both of you, you useless fucking beeings," he yelled. He kept going and going. My father did not curse very often but this time, his mouth would not stop what he called 'blaspheming'.