How Do You Love

"My name is Maya White, 17, from San Francisco." "My name is Blake Ryder, 18, from San Francisco." I remember growing up being alone, huh it sounds like my life is now. I always thought the only reason to live was to die eventually. When I was 9 I think or whatever age you are in 4th grade, I spent the night with my only friend at the time Octavia. We were talking about the future and she went on and on about how she is gonna be a famous artist who travels all around the world. She asked me what I wanted to be, thinking I would say oh a teacher or a vet, but I didn't. I said,"I won't make it to 18. I'll make sure of that." She never talked to me after that, I never understood why. Dad left when I was 11 and mom went to the bar every night after that. I was fine with that though because love doesn't exist they were pretending, everyone is always pretending. Mom is pretending that she is a good mom and doesn't drink, people at school pretend my father leaving was the reason why I never talked. I pretend to care about anything, I pretend to be the daughter my mom wants....I pretend to be someone who wants to live. I remember growing up being pestered by maids and butlers who with one bad comment about them from me my parents will fire them. It was funny seeing their face when I yelled saying they were being mean and then father comes in and fires them. Father and mother were always busy working and even though they never had time for anything they decided to have a child. It was fun seeing them fight and seeing father put down my mother. Women are objects and history backs up my thinking. I hate how they pretend to be so perfect like can't you see you look like a dumbass. I like pretending to care for girls when they get attached. Of course it's all for s**t and giggles and they're face when I drop them for another b***h is all worth it.