Truth.

My pages are soaked and it has taken you two weeks to even open me again Bess, I was beginning to

 worry that you had been sucked into the dark side.

Your face is red and puffy, snot running down your nose and your hands shaking too much for you

to write…. what is happening? I was right, wasn't I? She came into your life only to destroy you

again, hasn't she? Your attempt at a nod makes me pity you, I almost feel the need to hug you

and make you feel better but I just can't Bess, I can't. There is no point in throwing a pity party

when I had forewarned you of the destructive behavior that your disease ridden mother possesses.

There is nothing you can do for that type of illness but get rid of it, throw it out like the trash that

it is.

--photo--

Just face the facts Bess, you were born into a family full of sickos and a******s and there is nothing

you can do about it. You can’t even legally make it on your own because you’re still considered

a child. Oh don't worry about the state Bess, no one is going to come throw your overweight a*s

into foster care, the state knows better than to waste their time on worthless nobodies. You should

pack your bags and head on over to grandpa’s house. You and I both know that it is your only

option.

 

He what...?

 

--photo--

 

Grandpa has a new woman in his life? After living fifteen years alone, after the death of your insane

grandmother? Of all people, he chose that filthy piece of white trash? What is with the men in your

family and their choice in women?! Your grandmother may have been a cranky old nutter, but at

least she had class (well compared to the rest of your family, anyway), plus she knew how to kick

a*s.

 

This girl though, she looks like a walking pin needle.

 

--photo--

 

And yes, probably because of heroin. But what other choice do we have?

 

--photo--

 

You and Trevor? Don't make me laugh Bess, at least finish high school before you attempt to marry

the first loser than pricks you with his penis. He has pricked you, hasn't it?

 

Bess...?

 

Oh come on, you always close the book when s**t starts getting good. That’s fine, shut me out!

At least I know that, you know that I am the only person you can truly trust and turn to when s**t

hits the fan.

 

Which in your life, it does daily.