I...can't believe my eyes.
I let out a sob and have to grasp onto the wall to keep from collapsing.
Mother's words, that I hear almost daily, repeat over and over in my head.
Girls shouldn't write.
It's an impractical career choice.
What purpose does it serve?
I begin to feel sick as I take in the shreds of torn up paper scattered all over my room.
My stories are gone...my characters...killed.
I...have...nothing.