I felt angry,
frustrated.
I felt I didn't belong, not in my
church, not in my home, not
in my skin.
Amidst the chaos, i felt
alone,
in need of a friend instead of
a sister, someone detached from
my world.
The "woman's role" theory
disgusted me.
I would soon be a woman, and I
knew I could never perform as
expected.
I was tired of my mom's submission
to her religion, to her husband's
sick quest for an heir,
to his abuse.
I was sick of my dad, of
reaching for
him as he fell farther away
from us and into the arms of
Johnnie WB.

Auteur: Ellen Hopkins