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You Look Like A Whore Short Story

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“You look like a whore.”

That’s all I remember about my dad, and that all his clothes were fragrant with welfare checks and cigarettes. He never wanted me around, he didn’t want a disappointment around to screw everything up. I just felt like a bad dream that was lingering around too long; always feeling pressured to fit in. I never had a clear picture of what was right, or what was wrong. My mother was too busy obsessing over the materialistic things, she was too concerned how the world would perceive her. She didn’t have time for anyone else, but herself; she was too egocentric.

Nobody cares about people like me, all we do is cause trouble. Our wishes wasted on the person we thought would be there for us. I realized when I turned thirteen …show more content…

The night closes in as the scarlet leaves leave a fiery haze in front of me. I close my eyes and imagine I’m at home again, dreaming of the girl I used to be, even though that girl is gone now. Silver metal against my wrist and an unfortunate smell of coffee blowing in my face is a clear picture of consistency. Arrested for the fourth time in the past two weeks for doing what I had to do to feed myself.

I learned at a young age that life passes by quicker if you just pretend that everything is a dream. Growing up in one of the roughest neighborhoods in the Bronx refined me; it prepared me for all of the bullshit I was born into. Both of my parents being divorced, and having no siblings, I turned to the streets, and they raised me. Learning graffiti when I was ten, and then dealing when I was twelve, I got mixed with all the wrong people. I was exposed to reality early enough to catch on before being preyed upon.

I’ve walked these streets my whole life, I know them like an old puzzle that’s etched into my skull; it feels like home. But not tonight, tonight my heart pounds so hard I think it’s cracked a rib. My ears begin to ring, and for a moment it feels like a daze. I listen to the muffled gunshots that are fired blocks away. It’s the city that never sleeps, drowned in their own luxurious lifestyles with the haves and the

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