I remember when I first held my rose. She was as delicate as a flower, and she smelled just as good. Her mom never liked to hold her and even when she did, she was quick to hand her off to the next person. All so she could have her fun. I always wondered why people had kids they couldn't support and didn't want. For the fun? Or just because? When I held Rose she kind of whimpered in my arms, she squirmed a little, but she didn't cry out, who would she cry for anyways? Her mom? She probably wouldn't have noticed. Rose had that intoxicating baby smell, the one that makes you pull a baby closer to you so you can inhale every ounce of them. She had the most perfect smile. She was all gum at the time, which made her even more cute. I looked down at her when she yanked my hair. A firm grip that girl has, but I didn't yelp out in pain, I just stared at her and she stared back. At that moment, I knew I loved Rose and even if she wasn't mine, I'd treat her like she was. Maybe her mom will find a way to love her. Or maybe she'll find another boyfriend.