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Brady Martin doesn't know who he is, his mother wants him to be one thing, then another
I sat on my bed and stared at the starch white walls, despising the house I lived in. This life wasn't me, I wasn't supposed to be like this.
"Brady! Come down here!"
"Why?!"
"When someone asks you to come, you do not ask why! Get down here!" I groaned and threw my body off the bed.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1756849-Trapped