They Call me Cemo

They Call me Cemo

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, May 10, 2018
I got called Cemo the weirdest way ever. I'm officially 18 now it's been about 4 years since I wrote but everything i'm about to share is somewhat Aight and Somewhat Fucked up. I curse a lot in this story because that's how it is for real. Real talk. I'm in the DMV so a lot of you guys that live out here would understand what type time I'm on.
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Dear Nobody, My name is Luna Rose Wesley and I'm just like any other girl my age. I have some secrets, I'm afraid of the future, I have some complicated relationships and some amazing friends, and I'm just trying to do anything that I can to survive. But as the days pass, it seems like surviving in my world is becoming more difficult with every minute. You see, without any money, my family is forced to live in in an apartment building that's smack dab in the center of our rundown part of the city. And my mother is just a work of art. She is now addicted to drugs, and she isn't trying very hard at all to try to get us out of our inner-city situation. Living in constant fear, not only of what's outside my window at night, but also of my violent dealing brother living in the room across the hall, I have to find a way to cope without putting a bullet in my skull like so many of my fallen brethren. And my coping mechanism is to write letters to nobody- to you- and sending it to an address that doesn't exist. I need somebody to talk to without that somebody thinking that I'm looking for pity, so I've found you. Nobody. Thanks for listening. Sincerely, Luna Rose (Rated Mature for the mentioning of sex, drug use, violence, and profane language. Does not contain actual sex scenes.)

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