wulfstrider

My mother beat me. My mother stole, my mother lied, one day she stabbed me, with a knife, blood dripping on the floor, I managed to call, and they carried me, out the door, onto the walk, the ambulance, took me away. I woke up, maybe the next day, my mother beside me, head in her hands, looking up, I saw tears in her eyes, but my heart was ice. "Hi," I managed to say, "what's your story today?" She cried.