“It isn’t fair.” was the last thing I said, running out the back door. How come I always have to do it. I could understand if I was a girl. I was mad. I just wanted to get away from my prying parents eyes. I was going to stew about this for a while and then I would come back and do what they told me to do. Just like I do every time.
Cotton Trail
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Submitted by msmith111 on Wed, 2009/05/06 - 10:44am
Printer-friendly versionCotton Trail
By Msmith111
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