Dear Mom,
I haven't talked to you in days, and you can't understand why. From your side of things, nothing new has happened. Even though everything has happened. I am broken. Destroyed. Shattered like one of the many glasses you've thrown at the wall.
I have lost the will even to pester you. And you are completely blind to it all. You are so self-absorbed that you think this is about you. You think I am mad at you, and you are trying your hardest to figure out why.
I guess you are partially right. I can give you that, at least.
After all, I do blame you, deep down. Like how could you be so stupid, having those men around me. The ones you think are so honorable, but would do such a thing to me. And say such a nasty thing to me afterward.
It's no wonder I haven't eaten for days, by choice for once and not because you again neglected to buy groceries. I can't stomach my own pain, let alone food. All I know how to do is self-destruct. The attack was just so personal. And nobody was there for me. Nobody.
So you know what? Fuck you, Mom. This is personal. This is no longer fun and games. And someday, someday, mark my words, I will find the courage to tell Dad.
Your Pissed Off Daughter, Kathryn
YOU ARE READING
Dear Mom
Teen FictionDear Readers, This book of letters may be a tad scrambled... maybe more depending on the type of person reading from cover to cover. Just a forewarning, but it's confusing; it's hard to comprehend these events that took place. This story isn't your...
