bat gingham. d5. cb fin
Oct 14, 2020 23:24:33 GMT -5
Post by calla on Oct 14, 2020 23:24:33 GMT -5
bat gingham
15
momma's little arsonist
i don't think i'm a bad person.
mom said she found everyone else out on the front stoop, but she found me standing out in the rain one night, trying to pick the lock on the back door. i had a black eye and i was soaked to the bone, arms all torn up from the wire on the fence, but i still remember the way she looked at me when she came around the corner of the building. kinda like all that didn't matter.
i still booked it before she could catch me.
don't know when i decided to stay, don't really know how she convinced me. but i slept on the ground floor for a long time, in between one of the boilers and the wall. i just didn't trust the place at first. if you knew me, you'd know why. i mean, i wasn't like all those babies she took in. they were lucky enough to get dumped right away. it took a few years for my parents to figure out that they didn't want me. see, that's what makes it so shitty i was old enough to realize what was happening.
i spent a year in one of those backwater orphanages, a cluster of houses on district outskirts, but no one really wants to adopt a six year old escapee when they can have a newborn instead. shiny new babies like that aren't fucked up yet. they don't start fires in their rooms, and they don't wander through alleys at three in the morning when they can't sleep because the walls are too loud.
so yeah, i carved out a little piece of the gingham plant for myself. but it's not like it's set in stone. if they get sick of me and wanna kick me out too, then i'll be ready. got a highway home all lined up. just don't wanna be another statistic, i guess.
15
momma's little arsonist
i don't think i'm a bad person.
mom said she found everyone else out on the front stoop, but she found me standing out in the rain one night, trying to pick the lock on the back door. i had a black eye and i was soaked to the bone, arms all torn up from the wire on the fence, but i still remember the way she looked at me when she came around the corner of the building. kinda like all that didn't matter.
i still booked it before she could catch me.
don't know when i decided to stay, don't really know how she convinced me. but i slept on the ground floor for a long time, in between one of the boilers and the wall. i just didn't trust the place at first. if you knew me, you'd know why. i mean, i wasn't like all those babies she took in. they were lucky enough to get dumped right away. it took a few years for my parents to figure out that they didn't want me. see, that's what makes it so shitty i was old enough to realize what was happening.
i spent a year in one of those backwater orphanages, a cluster of houses on district outskirts, but no one really wants to adopt a six year old escapee when they can have a newborn instead. shiny new babies like that aren't fucked up yet. they don't start fires in their rooms, and they don't wander through alleys at three in the morning when they can't sleep because the walls are too loud.
so yeah, i carved out a little piece of the gingham plant for myself. but it's not like it's set in stone. if they get sick of me and wanna kick me out too, then i'll be ready. got a highway home all lined up. just don't wanna be another statistic, i guess.
