Cabin 304

I was sick to my stomach, every time I heard the words “Why can’t you be more…?” I hated it. The fact that my obnoxiously religious parents were so incredibly strict that it majorly destroyed my social life and childhood was bad enough, but the fact that I was never good enough hurt even more. They raised me like I was a machine, working until I achieved the maximum amount of perfection. I was taught not to sin, and that was all. There wasn’t any room for mistakes. No room for being a teenager What do you do when you’ve had enough? Enough of being treated like you were incapable of being everything your parents have ever wanted? The perfect little girl? You be the exact opposite of what they want you to be.