My family is broken. My dad is still missing my papa like everyone colored, gay, and just different misses Obama. My sister, Shelbie is always alone in her room blasting music. I hate myself. I hate myself so much I wouldn't mind getting pushed off a bridge by my own family members because I know our broken family doesn't need more problems that I add. My papa was great. My papa and dad were in love. I loved papa so much. He use to take me to the park once a week just because he knew I got bullied at school for having 2 fathers. If it was too cold for the park he would take me to a arcade and spend hours trying to get the stuff animal I wanted for a game that seemed to be fucked up untell he finally got it for me and wouldn't let me have it untell I hugged him (which I wouldn't mind obvisouly) He did that almost every week of my life untell one day my dads were at a gay club for their anniversary. Some homophobic peace of shit decide everyone gay needs to fucking go so he decided to play whack a mole but instead of whacking it was shooting and instead of moles it was homosexuals trying to be happy. My papa was trying to save people. He died a hero. I miss him it's been 5 years later. This happened when I was 10. My sister was 8. My dad was happy. Our happiness past away with papa.
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forever?
Random"You're nothing when you smile." "What?" "It doesn't mean shit when it's fake and full of petty."
