I found out on the stoop... from the Fudinkle's.

I haven't been home in over eight years. The thought makes my heart race and my knees quake. I walked out after my father decided he wasn't going to pay for art school anymore. "Why don't you go to a real f*****g college? Study business or something. Instead of splattering paint on canvas." I could say nothing. I couldn't say anything. What could I say? I splatter and spread paint on canvases. He didn't like my response and put me against a wall. So I decided to leave. Up and left everything behind, just me, the road and my pack, which was full of clothes and money. I knew I'd be okay. But this would be the first time we'd seen each other since eight years ago- December 23rd, 1993. I descend the front steps to the house. Knock on the door.

Wait. Wait.

A young woman answers the door. "Can I help you?" It's not very often a bearded, long haired man stands on your stoop. 

"Are Art & Mae Linvinston here?"
"They don't live here anymore. Both Art & Mae passed away about eight years ago in a car accident on Christmas Eve. We bought the house at an estate auction. We're the Fudinkle's." A man appears behind the young woman.
"Can I help you with something?"
"Nothing your pretty little wife hasnt't answered already there, sir. Ya'll take care now. Happy Chanukah, Kwanza and all that bullshit. Merry new year, too." I step away from the stoop, grinning yet cringing over that night. That was it, I guess. They passed away eight years ago on Christmas Eve in a car accident? They were probably out looking for me. I was right that day. 

"Both of you are gonna end up dying because I'm such a stress on your life. Give me a f*****g break. I'm so unstressful. I'm never even here. I live nine hours away. How can I be stressful to you? Your fucked- both of you. Just die already."