I will not forgive them...

You were about eight years old, and your mother had become pregnant by your stepfather after years of trying. You and everyone were happy (well, you didn't really care) until things started to go wrong. Your stepfather was a doctor and couldn't be home, and your family downplayed your mother's pain. You tried to help however you could, but in the end, she had a miscarriage. Your mother was deeply depressed and eventually took it out on you, accusing you of things you didn't do and kicking you out of the house—yes, she kicked you out when you were eight. You called your biological father; he came home drunk, as usual, and said something you wouldn't easily forget. "What the hell did you ruin now? You know I'm leaving, don't call me again." And with that, she left the way she came. In the end, your grandparents took you in and took custody away from your mother. From then on, you never called them again.