Lonely , depressed and well dressed

Daddys little disappointment

Sometimes I think dying would suck , because I know that he would regret everything that he says and everything that he does. And I wouldn't even be around to hear him say sorry and actually mean it. But at the same time , it'd be amazing. Because for the first time in forever he could say
" I'm sorry , it won't happen again." And he could actually mean it. 
I wanna know why he struggles to see the situation from my point of view or why he wouldn't say these things or do these things to my older siblings when they grew up. What crazy state of mind does he live in where it's okay for me to want to disown my own family , where it's okay to tear someone down everyday and still look them in the eye , tell them you love them and say sorry.
I wanna know why he isn't the only one in my family that hates me.
I keep imagining a scenario in my head , it's just like every other day. But it's just twisted a little.

I wake up at around 12. Everyone's asleep and it's an average day outside.
I just laze around for about an hour , mum gets up and makes food. The house is still a mess.
Everything's quiet but it's not a normal quiet. It's the kind of quiet you are when you get up at 3 am and tip toe to the bathroom next to your parents bedroom. So you don't alarm or agitate them.
Dad takes mum to work at 2 , it's peaceful for a few minutes , to know I have no reason to be unheard and in the shadows is unexplainable. As I'm in the kitchen doing the dishes. The thought of using the knife from last nights dinner to dig into my arm until the last thing I see is a puddle of my own blood  lingers upon my brain as I put it in the dish rack.
He's home. Its awkward and still again. Just us two in the house , the stench and vibe of his never ending authority fills the house as if it's on fire. He walks into the kitchen and I look at the window in order to avoid eye contact or being noticed. He slams the cupboard shut as he screams and hisses hate at me because of something that's not my fault.
I feel the tears form in my eyes as I quickly hold them back and take a deep breath.
I begin to scream. It's almost ear shattering.
He continues to yell and get aggravated. I pick up one of the freshly washed glasses from the kitchen counter and throw it to the ground. Glass shards spread across the floor. And then the thoughts and whispers appear in my head.... " what now?" They haunt my ears and make an impression on my anger.
I grab the closest piece of smashed glass I can see on the floor and drag the sharpest edge from the palm of my hand to my forearm. I make eye contact the whole time while blood pours out of my wrists. " you did this to me " , " are you happy? " , " you wanted this ".

Word hate starts hissing out of my mouth and he just stands there in shock. With not the tiniest glimpse of worry or apologetic excuses flowing through his dead , cold eyes.
And then it's over. I've fixed it. He no longer has to feel the pain everyday of knowing he helped create someone as selfish as me. Someone as selfish as me that does everything possible to prove I'm not my brother and sister.
He had watched me cry a thousand times,begging him to stop yelling at me and calling me names for months.
Maybe now it'll change. Maybe my little brother will grow up as a healthy only child. Or more loved and nurtured only child.