the abused child

The child kept pulling down his sleeves to hide the bruises from the one who he called mother. He felt so much pain and so much hurt and not because his skin was blue and purple but because his heart was too.All he did was try to make her proud but she wouldn't even look him in the eyes to say hello, and what came down to it all she said she had no son she could recall. He couldn't break the constant thoughts going through his head, who would of figured he'd put a bullet there instead...

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