But here's what I have of it so far
*NOTE* There is some harsh content, with a prositute addict mother, and a bitter child*
This boy catches balls, divides fractions, won’t die if he drinks milk, grabs flags off the other team’s players. My dad loves this other boy.
Me, he’ll hate the day I die. It’s nothing personal against me-it’s against my mom.
She was the addict.
She was the one that got pregnant with me, and then saddled me with him, another child to take care of, in addition to the kid already had with his wife.
Yep, that’s right.
I’m a bastard child of a prostitute who was hired to take care of him. But still.
I’m not bitter. Honest. I just wish I had a baseball bat (and was healthy enough to be able to hold it) and some personal alone time with her, that’s all I’m asking for.
Unfortunately, I won’t get either thing.
For one, since she was a junkie addict who used her “jobs” to pay for her crack and coke and all other sorts of drugs, and kept doing that even after she became pregnant