“”Agh, mom,” I screamed. “ Not like that!”
My mother was trying to run a comb in my hair. Her gentle hands were rough as she forced the comb to come out of my hair. She was only sober enough to sit up without vomiting.
As soon as I could I ducked from her grabbing hands.
“Bye mom!” I yelled, snatching up my pack. I heard her laugh as she laid back down.
“ Do you have all of your things,” My dad asked. I nodded. “ We will be watching you on the television, so don’t
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