GREECE

My mother has always had an issue with everything and everyone. She wants everything to be be the way she wants, yet her own definition of perfection and what is right is so flawed, I am a bit ashamed it took me twenty years of living with her to realize it.

“Greece! Did you even hear a word I said?!” She snapped, eyes glowering with fury.

She didn't scare me, at least not as much as before because the harshness in her gone still made me flinch and nod shaking, taking a hold of the bags she'd handed to me.

My mother had attendants and many assistants she could ask to do such menial labor, but she always picked me for it.

Because I was the mistake child who always has to have a use to her rather than remind her of the ‘damage’ I caused to her body.

And mental health.

We were at a shopping mall, scrolling around with her bitchy friends who all kissed her ass like they were addicted to shit. Telling her everything she picked, wore, spoke was right, beautiful, graceful. Making her s