Can you re-edit it, re-word it, rephrase it so that It will make more sense grammatically and flow better?
I had always wanted to be as far away from my parents as possible, I did not know why, but I did know I had to be. I was only seven; my father was evicted from the house as my mother had reported the police he had assaulted her. Which was a lie; actually she did it just because he had retired and being too old to build a new career. So most of the time I spent with her and her boyfriend, Billy. She was all around him that I felt as if she had been my step mother; Billy made her so busy that she did not even have time to make me something to eat, but she did not seem to be worried about it. A year had passed since my father had left the house; I could not believe I had lived without my lovely, adorable, supporting dad. He never turned his shoulder away when I needed it, no matter how many tears I was going to drop on it.
Times started getting rough in Washington, my mother almost scraped by on Billy's salary, the house looked so empty as if we had just moved in. the boxes she had put next to the front door made it harder to get in the house, it took me a few minutes to understand what had happened
"Hey, mom, I am home, are you there?" she did not answer so I thought she was not home, I tried to put the boxes aside, especially the television's box that blocked the front door. It was so heavy that the television fell from the bottom of the box while I was lifting it. The noise woke up my mother; she stared at me as she noticed me standing next to the television, her face changed its expression so fast that I did not know what her previous express had been. Her soft hands turned into fists in a second, she pressed her lips into a tight line and pulled her eyebrows together in a way that accentuated the frown lines that had showed on her forehead. She went to the kitchen and grabbed the knife she had used to make a salad for Billy,
" GET OUT OF MY HOUSE !!" I had never heard her screaming at me; well I had once but not that loud, she turned up the volume of her voice so loud that the neighbors started complaining. The knife was an itch away from my stomach; I could feel its blade touching my skin. I wanted to turn the knife to her stomach, but I knew she would turn it back to mine before I could even respond.
"Mom, please, I am your son! It is just a television, I will get you a new one, I promise!"
She looked at me as if my words had not made any sense to her; the blood flowed out of my stomach. I knew she did not like me so much, but I had never imagined myself fighting for my life against her.
Thanks for your time ! 10 points for the best answer !
I had always wanted to be as far away from my parents as possible, I did not know why, but I did know I had to be. I was only seven; my father was evicted from the house as my mother had reported the police he had assaulted her. Which was a lie; actually she did it just because he had retired and being too old to build a new career. So most of the time I spent with her and her boyfriend, Billy. She was all around him that I felt as if she had been my step mother; Billy made her so busy that she did not even have time to make me something to eat, but she did not seem to be worried about it. A year had passed since my father had left the house; I could not believe I had lived without my lovely, adorable, supporting dad. He never turned his shoulder away when I needed it, no matter how many tears I was going to drop on it.
Times started getting rough in Washington, my mother almost scraped by on Billy's salary, the house looked so empty as if we had just moved in. the boxes she had put next to the front door made it harder to get in the house, it took me a few minutes to understand what had happened
"Hey, mom, I am home, are you there?" she did not answer so I thought she was not home, I tried to put the boxes aside, especially the television's box that blocked the front door. It was so heavy that the television fell from the bottom of the box while I was lifting it. The noise woke up my mother; she stared at me as she noticed me standing next to the television, her face changed its expression so fast that I did not know what her previous express had been. Her soft hands turned into fists in a second, she pressed her lips into a tight line and pulled her eyebrows together in a way that accentuated the frown lines that had showed on her forehead. She went to the kitchen and grabbed the knife she had used to make a salad for Billy,
" GET OUT OF MY HOUSE !!" I had never heard her screaming at me; well I had once but not that loud, she turned up the volume of her voice so loud that the neighbors started complaining. The knife was an itch away from my stomach; I could feel its blade touching my skin. I wanted to turn the knife to her stomach, but I knew she would turn it back to mine before I could even respond.
"Mom, please, I am your son! It is just a television, I will get you a new one, I promise!"
She looked at me as if my words had not made any sense to her; the blood flowed out of my stomach. I knew she did not like me so much, but I had never imagined myself fighting for my life against her.
Thanks for your time ! 10 points for the best answer !