2004, the year I was brought into this pitiful and disgusting world. Why? I still don't know.
Blue eyed and bald, "A beautiful baby girl", as my dad always phrased it.
My mom...my...dad.
I had a near perfect childhood. Nothing much to complain about.
I lived on the border of Saginaw, the east side of the river. I grew up a white little girl in a mostly black neighborhood. The city remains a reminder to me of my grandma. She was the sweetest person on earth. Every day after preschool my mom would take me to her house, and I would love it.
My grandma...
My grandma had eleven kids, she was born in 1927, and worked in a Catholic church for many years. I was born at the hands of her 5th son. I was one of her favorite because I always seen her. We would spend so much time together...
Years had passed, I turned seven... when I saw ...it... for the first time.
YOU ARE READING
The Pink Room
RandomSo I don't know what to think. Am I going crazy. Variations of this feeling Emerge from within. My sanity lacks something important... Emotion.
