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(not sure bout the title :/ ) "Get away from me you bastard!. You think I asked for you to be my father??!!" I screamed at my dad. For about the 50th time this week.
I look into the stars. I have done this ever since I was little. When you look at the stars you dream, and when you dream your inspired, and when you're inspired. You can create.
Chapter 2 Sweet. I could smell something sweet. I ignored the smell, well tried, but my nostrils refused, and filled up its empty space with the aroma of apple pie. "It's on the house," Rita says.