“Stop crying or I’ll give you something to Really cry about” she seethed into the little boy’s ear, so that only he could hear it, despite being in a crowd.

what awaited the boy at home, he avoided, living from friends couch to couch a little upset with all the indifference the world could possibly give to a bastard child whose mother regretted having.

i wish my mother was a bag of empty threats, it would’ve made things tolerable.