Things Changed Pt. 2

Wednesday came. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want anything metal or non metal sticking me anywhere. I cried on the inside but walked into the doctors office and sat with my grandmother like a G. But, I wasn’t a G at all. Not. At. All. “Angela Diggs”, called the nurse. Oh my god. That’s MY…

Things Changed

Not sure why I ran away but I’m sure I had a good reason. Probably not but that’s what I’m going with for now. Oh, I remember! I missed my mother. I missed my sister and I desperately missed my nieces and nephew who I was missing out on getting to see grow up. Police,…

Things Get Better, Just Not Quite Yet

Just a year after my 8-year-old self was (I loathe using the word) molested, I was relocated to South Carolina to live with my grandmother and great-grandmother. I was 9 years old when I realized my mom couldn’t take care of me anymore. I was torn between “can’t” and “didn’t want to”. It was a…