Daughter

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“You’re a daughter of a monster!” my mother cried, pointing her index finger in me like I was some kind of monster myself.

“I don’t know!”

“Don’t talk to me, young lady!” She spatted.

“I—”

“Talk!” she shouted.

I squirmed in my seat. “I don’t want to be here,” I mumbled to myself.

“You saying something?” she asked, her face was so closed to my face that making me gag. She smelled like alcohol, and she had bad breath, reminding me she didn’t brush her teeth for this whole year.

“He was not!” I screamed, but she hut me.

“Away!”

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