She asked me what they were, and why they were there. All I could do was cry, and hold her. Praying to myself she would never turn out like I did. After then, the day came where my mother saw them. I was so ashamed. I would’ve just given up right there if I could’ve. We had gotten into non-stop arguments after that. My family thought I was crazy. She was so angry, not just at me, but at the fact that I had done that. She had told me that she asks herself “what had she done wrong? What would make me want to do that?” It made me feel so worthless, because I couldn’t explain my reasoning. I hated myself for what I had done, for disappointing my family. I hated myself so much for what I had done that I continuously did it again.
After then, It was during the summer that my seven year old sister had seen them as well. We were outside sun-tanning. She said something about them, and all I could do was run and hide. I was again so ashamed. I didn’t want to confess for what I had done. Especially not to a seven year old who looks up to me. I didn’t want to set that example to such a young child, let alone