She was at her apartment cleaning out everything that was there. She was working on closet, which had contained their clothes. She would throw his clo...hes quickly down on the ground because she didn't want to feel that shirt she always stole from him and wore to work. She didn't want to smell that pair of pants that were torn and stained. The ones she kept on telling him to throw away, but he never did. Now here was her chance to finally get rid of them and she couldn't. She put them in the box. These are mostly your friends, so please don't make me the ogre in your little fantasies, please." My mom was completely the opposite of my dad. We got on by mostly avoiding each other. While I have inherited my dad's quick sense of humour and optimistic view on life, I inherited my looks from my mom. We had similar black, thick hair, although I usually cut mine short compared to her long glossy mane, framing our heart-shaped, pale, flawless faces. Our eyes were both hazel, with mine perhaps. More

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