Really? It seems too good to be true. I don't trust it. I don't trust anyone.
I don't have to answer. Until you know the question.
I hated him. I hated them all. They made me hate myself even more than I already did.
This is my fault. Mine. Making her think I'd be here for her.
Everyone's a liar. Everyone I've ever known.
I hope they remember the good stuff, when I was a baby, a toddler, when they still had hopes and dreams for their little girl, their miracle child. In truth they were good to me. They were only doing what they knew how to do; what they thought was best.