Argrument

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I was home watching The Fosters and my moms walks in drunk. Great.

"Emily! Its your bedtime! Get up to bed , bitch!" She said while gripping onto the table, trying to hold together.

"Mom, its only nine - thirty. I am not seven anymore." I said, rolling my eyes.

" Excuse you? Go get your ass upstairs! Fuck you!" She said.

"You need to take a nap, your drunk. " I said

"So what ? I can do whatever the hell I want bitch! Go cut yourself or something you whore!"

Fuck , she was drunk. I mean, really drunk. How could she say Im a whore? I hate her. Im fucking done with her bullshit. Where is my dad anyway?

I ran upstairs. I got packed. I needed to get out of here. I packed everything. Even the locket my dad gave me when I was nine.

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