Illustration by Elizabeth Deegan
I was 9 years old when I started getting drunk. I would sit in my friend’s house in her brother’s room where the walls were black and the lights were black and everything glowed in the dark. It was 1969. As she played slow music I’d drink Mad Dog 20-20 and cry because the pain I felt was overwhelming.
I cried because my first memories were of getting hit by my … Read More
I was adopted from foster care when I was 5 years old. I didn’tremember my birth family and didn’t know I was adopted until I was about 9. One day I was playing tag and running around the playground with a friend after school.
When my adoptive mother, Mrs. Anderson, pulled up in her little blue Pinto, my friend said, “Who is that?”
I told her, “That’s my mom.”
“No, … Read More