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I'm goth. I'll admit it. But it's not because I choose to be. For all of my life I've been sad, or lonely, or angry, and eventually it was even painful to see bright colors, because they reminded me of happiness that I'd never truely experienced, so I wore dark clothes instead. I didn't choose to be depressed, so don't judge me...

My mom slept around the district. She was super poor and unemployed, so she turned to prostitution. They had some nickname for her, but I don't recall it. She looked a lot like me but prettier, long, dark red hair, fair skin, and a little short. The only difference was the eyes. Her eyes were icy blue, while mine are so brown they're black. Just being looked at by her made shivers go down my spine. Whenever she looked at a man though... Let's just say once she wants your money, she's going to get it.

She was young when she got pregnant. 19. She was forced to stop working when she found out, and nine months later, I was born. She still didn't know who the father was. She named me Crimson for my hair, put me into a blanket she had salvaged from someone's trash and left to continue working. We were so poor at that time that we could eat maybe once or twice a week. I managed so survive somehow and looked for money where I could find it. It wasn't easy, but we didn't starve. My mom had to 'run errands' almost every night, So I found places away from our creepy, old, one-room house to sleep. Behind the dumster in an alleyway. In the tall branches of a tree behind someone's house. In the crevises of warm places, like the bakery. My mother never knew that I was't at home, because by the time she got home from her 'errands' I was already at school. Once I was old enough to take tesserae, we barely even spoke. She never made an effort to know me, so I never knew how to talk to people or make friends.

I found out what her suppossed errands were when I was 13. Some kids at school were taunting me again, and I was ignoring them, again. One of them said something about me ending up just like my mother, and, in her defence, I whipped around and asked why that was such a bad thing. I mean, she had fed and clothed me my whole life, so why would I say anything bad about her? I didn't know that other people's parents were usually much kinder. They said something along me sleeping around and being a little whore, and, genuinely confused now, asked what that had to do with my mother. They just laughed and proceeded to beat me, like usual. I didn't care today though because I had to find out. I left school early and ran home, planning to demand an answer from her, but I didn't need to. I figured it out the moment I stepped inside.

Her bed was in the far corner of our one roomed house, and as I turned to see the where she was, I froze. I saw her naked back, mostly covered by a sheet, and a man's arms. I shifted to get a better view and confirm my suspicions, and when I was sure of what they were doing I ran out of the house as fast as I could. Before I got three yards though, I tripped and turned back to see both of them watching me. My mother with concern, and the man without expression at all. They stood and began getting dressed and I tried to get up and scramble away, but after a moment of running I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned, crying now, expecting to meet my mother's eyes, but instead I saw those of the man. He apologized for not being there for me, and in that split second I noticed his eyes. They were just like mine.


TO BE CONTINUED *bum bum bum*

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