January 11, 2018
By Anonymous

Still waiting, a child who can’t figure out why her mother is gone or where she has gone, a child who can’t seem to find her place in life while her mother was looking for her daily drug, I asked myself “what can I do to make mommy get better?” Everyone told me it wasn’t my place to do a parent's job. I still didn’t care what people said or thought, I just cared about helping out mommy who was drunk off of her feet. As I got older I still waited for the mother to be better and get better. As time went by no one tried to help her, she couldn’t even help herself. One day I found my mother lying in bed, no movement, not even a breath of air. “What do I do?” I asked. The ambulance came to take her away but I was too scared. When mother got out of the hospital she went back to her wicked ways, but this time mommy didn’t get out of the hospital, now she is sitting inside of a glass jar and all I want to do is take her somewhere far far away.

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book

Parkland Speaks

Smith Summer