That's kind of how I felt when I was younger with my younger siblings when I went home from my dads. They were abusive and neglective. I would come home after a week there with ratted hair and have missing clothing. They use to lock us in a bedroom all day without any food. My brother and I manage to picked the lock one night and we snuck into the kitchen and ate some bread we found. I hated being at my dads. For some reason I rather of been home where my mom's boyfriend at the time was sexually abusing me and raping me. At least I wasn't locked in a room all day without food. Hell I remember when my sister and I were younger and we'd eat old leftover food that was left out and drinking pop with cigs butts in them and god who knows what else was in them.