When we are children, we cry as loud as we can to make our parents hear us. But as our baby soft skin turns rough, and our lives turn sad, we cry as quiet as we can, therefore no-one will hear us. - Some smart person said that, can't remember who exactly but someone with quite genius indeed, for me however the story was far from that, my mother never came when I cried. She was too busy getting laid. Typical of her. I pull myself out of my thoughts, and pull my long brown hair into a hair tie and wear some stupid yellow jacket my mother bought me when I was in 9th grade. I didn't really care what the stupid therapist had to say about my outfit choice, so I didn't bother wearing any makeup other than a dash of mascara and some blush. I slowly pull into his office where a door reads "Dr.Zorb" I laugh, what a stupid name. "Well miss Johnson! Your finally here"
I grit my teeth "Don't push your luck, you should be thanking god I showed up at all" still glaring at him, I sit down while he pulls out his notepad. "How are we feeling today!" "Fine" I remark half-heartedly "Ah well Miss Johnson-" "Call me Tracy."
At this point he's obviously annoyed. "Fine then, T-Tracie, you see, fine isn't an emotion." That was the last straw, I was so done with this guy. "WELL, I have to use the ladies room" I didn't, I just wanted to leave that place.
YOU ARE READING
The letter
Mystery / ThrillerTracies mother always had a nack for little things, she noticed every detail, every move. Growing up, it was Tracies favorite thing about her mother, Tracy lived a normal life of a teen, however, All things changed when one day, Tracy Johanssons mot...
