Dana's story

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is a true story. I'm happy to share things like this it make me feel good inside.

Submitted: December 09, 2009

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Submitted: December 09, 2009



Dana's Story
I’m here today writing a short story about why I’m here, how I got here and all that other stuff.
If I can remember clearly I was about nine years of age, it was a typical old Sunday afternoon and this was the week my mom had just received her welfare check, not only that but my monthly allowance. I was one of those kinds of kids that dreamt of only the best all I ever wanted was a new bike or new toys, and something a nine year old girl wouldn’t think about…but I wanted a new life and a new mother. Every month my mom would constantly waste every penny she had on beer, weed and who knows what else. I never had a childhood it seemed like that had gotten taken away from me a little too early. Everyday I was tormented by her, I always dreamt of running away from her but somehow I just couldn’t let go of her. Everyday I just felt like another lost kid wondering in this world alone. It felt like I was the black sheep of the family. It felt like I hadn’t belonged, not only that but I felt…everyday I felt unloved.
My mom never felt like a mom, she felt more like an evil witch just trying…desperately trying to make my life hell everyday.  On that Sunday afternoon I will never forget the sadness, the hurt I felt, the betrayal and most of the scar that represents that particular day. It’s like flashes every second and every second there are tears. My brother Donovan running…me running…my blind sister trying to run, I found it the most hardest I tried to reach out to them and tell them to follow me, guide my sister to safety. I didn’t want to leave any more this was home…this is where I belonged and I wanted to stay here, but neither of us could.
Social services were chasing us they caught everyone else but me I knew I had to give up running was just to much. The cops came and it was over. I didn’t forgive my mom for never trying to help she watched as we were crying and trying desperately trying to run. It hurt me and probably the others when we got taken away.

By Dana Henderson

© Copyright 2018 Dana Henderson. All rights reserved.

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