Flowers in the Attic (Dollanganger, #1)

by V.C. Andrews

then, that happiness was always just ahead in the future, when I would be an adult, able to make my own decisions, go my own way, be my own person? Why had it seemed that being a child was never enough? Why had I thought that happiness reserved itself for those grown to full size?

Shout out to all my children of emotionally immature parents….