Our desks sat two by two in neat rows facing the front.
The seat beside mine was empty, except for a nametag with the name Ashley written in block letters.
A girl marched up to me.
Her bright red bob hair swung in time with her steps.
"Where is Ashley?" She demanded.
I just shrugged.
"Who is Ashley?"
She rolled her eyes.
"Well, just so you know, she's been my best friend since Kindergarten. She's not going to be your friend."
Then she marched back to her seat.
YOU ARE READING
What My Mother Forgot
Non-FictionBefore reading this, you should know... This is not a happy story. There is no happy ending. Simply put, this is a chronological account of the abuse, neglect, and bullying I suffered at the hands of loved ones from birth to 17 years old. It does no...
