Grwing up i had both my father and mother in my life; they were married. My big happy family was my parents,my older brother Mike and myself, Melissa. I was five years old when my grandmother, from my father's side, had died. As he was the oldest, he took the responsibility to go to his birthplace, Honduras. I was little, so i didn't really understand what was happening at the time. So months and months passed by, and i wasn't getting tucked in anymore, i woke up for my glass of milk at midnight to the constant shock that he wasn't there anymore. My mother didn't explain anything to my brother and I. No more weekends, bike riding or playing in the park with dad. No more anything, he was gone. The once happy family was no more.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
The Life Of A Middle Child
Não FicçãoShe tought love was a lie; In her toddler years she was love and well taken care of. In her tweens both her uncles molested her. Her mother doesn't know bcz she won't care. In her teens her stepfather molested her. She built up the strength to tell...
