Work Text:
I think I inherited my mothers hunger for destruction, or it was given to me when I was born a women. I haven’t been gifted my fathers temper yet, since I haven’t lived my life with entitlement. I tried to be entitled, when I was seven. I tried to tell myself that there was better, and I didn’t deserve this life. I wanted to be entitled to those happy childhoods I saw on tv. I tried to be entitled again at age nine when I wanted to be sicker so I could prove I was sick. I stopped trying to be entitled at age ten, when i realized I wasn’t special in any shape of the word. I wasn’t the worst and I definitely wasn’t the best, so I stopped trying. But something was wrong, I inherited my mothers depression at a young age. I’m waiting for the day I inherent her life, and sit quietly waiting for the fist of my husbands hand to silence me and leave me craving destruction.