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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/notebook/ollieamy
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I remember those times I would look for trouble and run to my mother's arms for safety. Her arms I believed were the safest place in the world.
Not that it's not still safe, but I only grew up.
And this happened so fast. So fast that before I could realise, I was already responsible for me. I was like 'hold up, wait a minute'.
Adulthood is every child's dream, but little do they know.
All I could think of was the freedom. I had seen my mates cry all the time. From fall, or that there was no extra pringles in their lunchbox. But never for once have I seen an adult cry. Maybe because they were so tall, I couldn't get a glimpse of their face.
I never saw the bills coming. Gosh the bills.
Yes the bills.
What am I supposed to do with that?
I've added a new item to my portfolio:
 Scars  (13+)
A true life story of a young man, who struggles with forgiveness due to childhood trauma
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/notebook/ollieamy