MyDepressionList

In my case, it's like "Big Brother/Mother is watching you." First, they found out about my skipping classes, then they found the mead, searched everything they could, from cabinets to my passport cover, and finally figured out where I was going for the festival. It's not a day, it's just a nightmare. I hate weekends. I stuffed my things under the bed, I'm afraid to leave the house – because if I do, I'll come back and see the results of the thousands of rubles and dozens of hours of work being thrown away by my relatives. I guess there won't be any relaxation until Rusborg.