After everything I've been through, I can imagine the amount of hurt my mom must have dealt with knowing my father never loved her and especially when she was carrying me.
I lay sadly under a tree in the hopes when I returned he would be gone by then. Knowing the person he is I didn't want to see his face again, ever. I began to wish he was truly dead and my mom was the one living.
Why do the bad ones live longer and the good ones die so fast? I couldn't help thinking with a heavy heart.
My head raised quickly from the ground hearing a sound behind me. I looked around and I felt a great instinct as if I'm being watched. I've been long enough in the hood, Madison must be concerned about my whereabouts and so I ran back to her house. I went where I had hidden my clothes and shifte
