The Bad Girl With A Past

Mommy kind of walked in. She was walking kind of how I walked after I went on those spinny things in the playground. I wonder if thats where she went to have fun, to the playground. Her pretty blonde hair was really messy, it was hanging and covering her eyes which were kind of red. Why were they red? She took another step and slammed the door shut behind her. I shook, mommy sometimes acts like two different people. She can be nice mommy and she can be mean mommy, right now she was acting like mean mommy. Recently mean mommy has been around a lot. Sometimes mean mommy comes home and her breath smells really bad and she yells at me a lot. I watched her, scared as mommy tried to set down the bottle she was holding. ~~~ With memories of my mother's abuse from when I was four it's no wonder I'm so messed up. Come see me now, I'm sixteen. I don't listen to anyone, not even my foster parents. I play with boys like a baby plays with a pacifier. I'm that girl your parents tell you to get away from, no one really knows me because I don't let anyone in. I'll never fall in love, mainly because no one will love me. After all, if my mother couldn't love me, why would they?