I know I scare you, Mom. I'm sorry I scare you. But I want to write and I want to see. And what would I write about if I only stayed within the doll's house, the flower-world I grew up in? You gave me a potential. I love you but I'm growing out of what you gave me. I'm saving it inside me and growing outwards. Let me fight my monsters. You made me. You made me.
