I moved out of my parent's house again. It was planned, not spur of the moment as my father thought. I left the badass and moved in with another one of his nieces and her boyfriend, who I was also interested in but knew I could never have. I was more like his confidant and secret intimate friend. He liked being in charge of our lives. He was the one who convinced me to move out and use my college money to pay for our rent. They both contributed, at first, but then I think it became all me. Some of my abilities still worked, but others seemed to dwindle away and go dormant or turn off altogether. My empathy was still constant. I could still hear the voices in my head (that sounds funny), but my sending abilities were turned off. I could sense entities but couldn't communicate with them. I brought very little of my witchy stuff with me, neither of them knew anything about me in that way. I purged a lot of myself into a forty-yarder that sat outside my bedroom window that was being used by the people in the apartment above us. Within the first two weeks, I realized my mistake but had no way of backing out. I kept to my bedroom mostly, only coming out for 'family meetings', as he put it, and to use the bathroom or fix myself something to eat. The boyfriend would bug me constantly not understanding my need for privacy. So to get me out of my bedroom he put me in charge of all the chores and the cooking. But that wasn't enough, he felt the need to inquire about my sex life and made a quest for himself to find someone to share my bed.