My Story
- Reads 73
- Votes 3
- Parts 1
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Sun, Jul 13, 2014
I was 17 years old when my mother had called me from my room and said that we need to talk, and me being me, I thought she had found out about my bad grades because I was constantly in the counsellors office. When I got down stair, she sat me down on the old cracked leather chair across from her, and said that my father had passed away.
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