Showing sad stories for tag "sticks"

Sticks and Clicks

Emelyn

My parents aren't home much. They never have been. My childhood, as far as I can remember, was a slew of babysitters of varying trustworthiness every night, every weekend, every day off, and every day of every summer. My mom liked to (still likes to) go out to bars and casinos, so my dad took her to wherever suited her fancy that evening to make sure she didn't get into any big trouble or cheat on him. I've never bothered to ask them about their escapades, since they always come home at almost two in the morning, and since I don't particularly care to know. Most of the time, it was just me and my sister, Halle, at home with some stranger who was content to sit on the couch with a bag of potato chips and watch TV. That was fine with us, too. If there was enough light... [Read More]