Why I hate Life Post #2

I want to get away from here.
This house, these people, my school, this town.
I just want to get out.
It's no secret they don't respect me. If parents are suppost to make things better, then I don't have any parents. My mom can help sometimes, but my stepdad makes things worse. And when my mom gets a migraine as bad as this one, I'm completely on my own.
My stepdad doesn't care about me. He never said "I don't expect to replace your father". He never even wanted to be anything like a father to me.
His children are horrible, and he just encourages them.
When I get upset, he says I'm overreacting and laughs. And he doesn't stop.
Forget about when he took the little kids to see his mom and get ice cream while I stayed at home to take care of mom. What does that matter when his precious little boy and his wonderful friends take over the tv for entire days at a time. And play their games on tables, games that can't be moved at all. Or when they talk through movies, after all "We were just talking about the movie".
When I can't even retreat into my room because their screaming is so loud, where the volume is turned up to where I can't find anywhere in the house where I can't here it.
There is no where to run, there is no where that I can hide. Only three more years, and then I will be free.
Unless I can get away sooner.
There's more than one way to escape.
But who cares? I'm just over reacting, right? Go ahead and laugh at me.
Laugh as I walk upstairs, laugh as I cry. Laugh at me while I try to hide inside myself. Laugh as I lock myself away, laugh as I become a hollow shell.
Laugh as I turn into nothing.
Oh wait, I'm already nothing to you.