Summer '09 - H.S

3

𝕝𝕦𝕟𝕒 𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕣
꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱
･:*:･｡☆･:*:･｡☆

It was the next day, and I had called off work because I was exhausted, sore, and too high to cope with other people's nonsense.

You'd think that because I work in a goddam bookstore, I wouldn't have to deal with rude customers, but I believe we get the worst.

They've actually thrown fits when we've told them there isn't a specific book in the store, and the worst part is that I have to be nice even after they curse me out.

But thank God for drugs, which are the only thing that keep me relaxed.

It was a strange feeling to be high and happy, to have all your thoughts and worry's pushed away, to have all your insecurities and problems vanish.

Who would have thought it was all because of

Molly.

Molly was my best friend. My love drug.

It made me happy because I no longer recognized myself when I looked in the mirror. I still considered myself a Perez.

Even though two amazing fathers adopted me, it didn't change the fact that I was placed in many foster homes before they, with different parents and affection. being physically and verbally abused by people who only cared about money

I'm so strapped down to my past.

To the way, I was always treated, I know I'm worth more than I've allowed myself to believe. But how can I be more valuable if I'm forced to be someone I'm not?

I grew up with two loving parents who did everything they could to keep me hidden from where I came from. My biological parents were from Palestine, Dominican Republic and Brazil. They were two junkies who had a child by accident.

Drugs.. drugs drugs drugs is a big thing in my family.

I suppose you could say that I resemble my biological family, a messed-up junkie. The only problem is that I don't represent myself as one. If you saw me on the street, you would think I was a well-educated, wealthy woman, but I am far from it.

I didn't get into any good colleges because I slacked off in my junior year. Missing school for weeks, if not months. My SAT score was low, and didn't give a single fuck about my future.

I graduated solely because my fathers are well-known and possess the one thing that everyone desires.

Money.

As a result, I'll always be a failure. I've never had a good, well-paying job. My dream was to become a nurse.

But now that I've decided to give my life away to drugs, that will only be a dream. And it reminded me of my biological father more than anyone else.

My father.

One of the many reasons I grew up so messed up was because he was the first man I knew and the first man I loved.

My heart broke into a million pieces learning how to pick myself up, even though I was so fucking young.

My father, the first man to let me down
The first man to fail me.
The first man to stifle my enthusiasm.

I know he cared about me. But he didn't care enough about me to change who I hated. He didn't care enough about me to change and keep me. Instead, he let me watch as his dealers pulled him out of our filthy old house and beat him up till he couldn't move. He stood by and watched as CPS took me away, tears in my eyes, but he never tried to change.

My mother did nothing because she knew I was a Perez, and Perez never had good luck in this messed-up world. I'd always be the result of two junkies' mistakes.

I closed my eyes, already allowing my overactive mind to get the best of me and overthink everything. Tomorrow was already going to be a long and exhausting day at work, and I knew this high wouldn't go away anytime soon, knowing that I had taken a little more than usual.

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hi! if you added my book recently i literally love you so much <3

uhmm question.. how old are u guys?