The real trash fire was the friends we made along the way.
Madness string 1198
How do you know if something can talk? What if it only talks under certain specific circumstances, like if you dance with it under the third full moon of a new century in the rain?
It eviscerates you, doesn't it. I was fourteen when mine screamed at me that she wished I'd been aborted, after having years of being blamed for her miscarriage when I was two years old. Knowing that your mother feels that way about you leaves a void in your soul that nothing can ever fill.