One Foot in the Grave

One Foot in the Grave

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Apr 19, 2015
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Fiction
Social Themes
"Oh shut up!" my mother spat at me. "You think your brave and fearless and cool and blah blah blah. But to me, your nothing more than a dead squirel on the road." A tear slipped down my cheek and I stumbled back as though she had slapped me, then my pain turned to anger.
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My whole 17 years I never knew my birth father. My mother always said he was a piece of shit. At night I hear her drinking and using. She never was a good mother to me. always beating on me. I am Tate Trager. I ride a 69 red Dyna and work at a club. My mother told the own to out me to use since I have a good body. he felt bad for me so he gave me a job as a bartender at the Jollybean. the girls treat me like family. They let me crash at their places when I don't want to go home.

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