Arthur was always looking for a chance to bring others down, to step on them and savour the brokenness in their eyes, in a sick and sadistic way.
Not only that, but he is the kind of person that doesn't know how to accept change. He sticks by his 'ideals' as if they mean the world to him, more than his family, clearly.
In public, however, he becomes someone else entirely. It is as if he is only loud, abusive and careless with the four of us, but is quiet and collected otherwise. Naturally, he has been shown on occasion to yell at his coworkers over the phone, and blabber on angrily with people who can't understand his broken English, but those are the individuals that are paid to put up with him.
If I was them, I would probably quit.
Maybe he became this way because he lacked a proper father figure in his own life; but I can't honestly think what he could be achieving by making our lives miserable.
My mother had to spend time with her in-laws, and believe me, from what I heard it was terrible. Apparently they were too cheap to turn on the AC, so she had to broil in the hot Pakistani summers. They rarely bought meat as it was expensive, and the leftovers HAD to be finished. Not to mention they were constantly berating my mother in ways I could never imagine.
It seems that they used to have a golden retriever. The poor dog went mad.
I can see why, as the German shephard, named 'Dain' or 'evil witch' that they got later was fed a diet of pitas and kept chained in one spot.
That poses the question, am I going mad?
I could never want for food, as my mother has positively influenced Arthur in this way. Not really chained to one spot, but I am chained to a certain bunch of expectations and mannerisms.
Oh, and we had a rabbit. We got her around when we first moved into the new house, from someone who had rescued her and couldn't keep her as they were leaving for Ottawa.
Her name was Hopper. She had fur like velvet, white with sprinklings of brown and black.
She got yelled at, kicked and thrown around by my dad, naturally, even though she was as gentle as a lamb and probably sweeter.
Hopper died a few months ago. I still remember how she'd lick my hands when I stroked her ears.
Now I have a cockatiel named Toby, who screams loads in his attention-seeking ways. But at least he can defend himself, biting hard whenever my dad tries to grab him.
He's reaching the end of his lifespan too.
In grade seven I was in a much better class, with a teacher who valued reading and writing over the rest of the curriculum.
I almost jumped for joy when I heard that.
Suddenly my grades flew back up and I was recognized multiple times in class. Coincidence? You tell me.
But grade seven was filled with loads of drama, a lot of which was my fault.
I was in a class with the old 'friend' from Riyadh, the other nice individual from grade six and a couple others who got into the mix.
Let's just say I did quite a few stupid things, but the people around me were pretty stupid too.
That just about covers it.
But I did learn a load of lessons that have helped me improve change into the person I am today.