problems with a happy ending

I looked at my father and he looked at me. "Why did you do it?" he
asked. I burst out in anger, "Why can't I do it?" Red with rage, he slapped
me hard. I touched my burning cheek, staring hard at him, whose face
was turned away from mine. Then I noticed my mother sobbing
beside him. I softened as my feelings overpowered me. I had never been
slapped before. My parents had never tried to understand me and
neglected me, like I was a child they had never wanted. They paid
attention to me only when I asked for something and I got almost
everything, except their love. They were always busy with work and I
often reasoned with myself that they were doing this for a good life for
me. It was hard to believe that. I let out a sob of frustration, tears of
sadness running down my cheeks. Being the richest among my friends, I
showered them with gifts, a small price to pay for their constant
companionship. However, they were troublemakers who tried to involve
me with their misdeeds. I always managed to escape, being the innocent
one, until now. They had convinced me to take my first cigarette and
policemen nearby caught us. I could not escape because of the
cigarette's strong smell. It was a small offence to my friends, a big one to
my parents and an eye opener for me. My father was raged, my mother
was crying, and I saw that they actually cared about my doings. They
were concerned for me after all. With a hint of tears in his eyes, my father
turned to my weeping figure and asked once again, in a warm voice,
"Why did you do it?" As I began to reveal my feelings, my mother hugged
me and healed where it hurt the most. I guess I did it to get their
assurance of love for me.