I used the NaPoWriMo prompt today. Click the link and you can read it. I'm not writing it all out here. This sounds pretty harsh, but...well...it is what it is.
A few things I can't tell you
You aren't going to remember any of this
by the time I'm done. Half of it, you
won't even hear. Your hearing has been
shit for years. I mostly pity you now.
I worry that I'll end up with this same
fucking affliction, and with the last of
my senses, I'll blame you. This doesn't
run on Mom's side of the family.
There was no expectation of affection, no
reason to believe that you'd listen to my
problems. I never thought you'd do a damned
thing if I told you that I had been tortured
by the boy around the corner. You never had
any hobbies, so I didn't think you'd care about
mine. Your role was that of a figure head,
a weak willed disciplinarian. There was never
an ounce of respect for you in my blood.
I was happy to erase your name from me.
I told you my name three times the last time
I called. I just wanted you to shut up and hand
the phone over to Mom. I can't talk to a shell.
There is nothing left to do for you but maintain
until you shut down, until you fade away.