It’s that time of year when families travel to come together and put their differences aside, the time to be thankful for all they’ve been given and have worked for, the time to catch up, or to break the daily routine of just getting by and stop to recognize there’s much to appreciate in life.
They call me by a nickname. I’m not like all you other folks. I never had a daddy and my mom was a fein at the age of 42. My mom sadly cracked due to that drug she smoked. She left me in this world forced to believe hell is a place called home. After my mom past I was so depressed I smoke weed until it clouded up my head.
It has been a while since we last spoke. Actually, we never got the chance because of the distance that separated us. I believed ever since I was a child and from the stories I heard about you from the family, you were a pretty cool dad.
I’m broke, hungry, and it’s lunch time at school! Being hungry at school makes me think about the benefits I can’t get because of my parents’ income.
My uncle is in prison. Talking about the prison system and about him being locked up is pretty hard. He might not even know I am writing about him.