I'm really fed up. The vegetables went bad, and my dad blamed me again. Just now, he threw a rotten chili pepper. He bought it himself. The spinach went bad, but he didn't say anything. I asked him if I could leave, and he said it would be best if I could leave. Does he not know that my knee is injured to level three and I can't go out to work? The vegetables went bad, and he just ate them. He said I don't look. Vegetables can't just be looked at to stay fresh; if you don't eat them, they'll spoil. If I don't eat, they'll go bad. If I weren't broke right now, I would really leave this home. Can't I rent a place in the city and live on my own? Why do I have to suffer his temper every day? Let him farm slowly and live his life.