Night at George's

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He dragged me back up. I whisper-yelled "Let me go! I need to get out of here!"

He dragged me back no matter what. I dropped something out of my bag. It was a picture. A great picture. It was of me and my brother, my sister, and my dad.

My brother decided to live with my mom. My mom wasn't in that picture. Mom hated dad at the time, so she didn't want to be in a picture with him.

My sister, who I still hate, was always so rude. When I was 4, she was 14, and she hates me. My brother was 6. I'm 16 now, but I still remember my siblings. I don't remember them that much, but I kind of do.

The boy grabbed my wrist. I was going to die. Does it really matter though?

I tried tugging away. He took off his sunglasses. It was George. My boyfriend. He looked mad. We climbed up to the roof to talk.

"Ok, why in the hell would you do that?! You have no where to go, and you have no family members or no money."

"Ok, so George, you ain't the boss of me. I did that because I hate this place. And I can get a job and stay in a hotel for the night. And I do have my mom, but I don't even know her name, and I don't know where she lives."

"Well, how bout you stay at my place tonight?"

I sighed. "Fine, but I'm not staying long. I have a mother to find. I don't know what she's like, but I can find her."

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