Thirty-seven

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My mother can't bare to be around me. She flinches if I even as much as come into the same room.

She won't talk to me, she leaves me some food on the kitchen table and locks herself  in her room all day.

One day I pressed my ear to her door.

She was crying.

That's all she ever does.

Night and day.

If it's like this when I am here.

How is it going to be when I'm gone?

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