I don't have to many memories of my parents. When I was 5 my mom dropped me, my baby brother and older sister off at my grandparents house and left (I guess she gave my grandparents custody prior). My grandparents told us she was a drug addict, but thats about it. My grandparents always respected us, but never really treated us as their own. No birthday parties, no driving us to soccer practice or friends houses. My sister always took good care of my brother and I. She would get home from high school two hours earlier then me so she always made me a sandwich. One day I came home and I was suprised that there was no sandwhich on the table. I marched up to her room and her door was locked. So I went to my room and watched TV. When my grandparents got home I heard them yelling, but I just kept on watching TV. Later, my grandparents come into my room and there was cop with them. He explained that my sister had a disease in her head that made her so sad she didn't want to live anymore.
| |
Now, if the punishment does indeed fit the crime, I must have fucked up ROYALLY in a previous life (or whatever), because this shit is fucking unbearable. My deepest sympathies to you, me and anyone walking through life with the weight of several worlds upon their shoulders, their heads dragging the ground as they shamble obliviously through this fucking hellhole that people so audaciously call life.
New Comment