"Is it her?"
Rhonda, with waist-length red hair, pointed to a girl in class.
"No," Matt said.
She continued pointing until she got to me, "Her?"
Matt wrinkled his nose. "No."
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...