My home is not for the living

I hate where I stay.

If this came out of the mouth of a teenager, it might seem like an ungrateful brat who was complaining about what he has and not treasuring what he has.

I wish I was that person, but I am not. There is just nothing to treasure over here. I did housework today, wanted to start cleaning up the place which one will usually miss, including a table beside the television. It belongs to my brother and it has several toys and sweets on it. Nope, you are missing the point, it is not a play table. It is an alter.

Get the picture?

When I was clearing the stuff, my bro came out of his room and I asked him to come clean the table by himself. He said he already bathed and didn't want to do it then, and ADVISED ME NOT TO TOUCH THE TABLE. It is not the usual childish threat.

Can I have a home please? I need my own home desperately. Please gimme my BTO. T_T