This is where i get angry...and honest.

I hate my mother. You hear lots of kids say that, most of them are just being teenagers. Some of them have it right.
I fucking hate my mother. She who bore me, but didn't raise me. Her blood runs in my veins and let me tell you; if I could slash my wrists and drain her blood out I would in a second.
Three yearsa of her fucking alcoholic abuse. Her screaming, being so drunk she can't remember what was happening ten minutes ago.
So drunk she doesn't know who I am any more.
Walking home from school was a mission, knowing thirty percent of the time she'd be passed out on the floor somewhere.
And all those emotions fired together became just that one - burning hatred.
I remember a night coming in to the house at ten at night and she's on the floor in my sisters room.
"Mum, where's charlotte?"
"Oh, she's just gone for a walk"
"What? Why? It's ten at night!"
"No silly boy, she's gone to the shops to get her lunch"
She'd been so drunk she didn't know what day it was, had rambled shit at my twelve year old sister til she couldn't deal with it any more, had fled the house.

You want to know what I did? I took her credit card. Ran up a $400 bill for her. She's angry at me.
In her own words ' I don't know what I didn't to deserve such anger from you. I was always a good mother".

That four hundred is pay back for the three years of abuse bitch!
She is dead to me.