An emotional tale of what happens when a single mom abuses and neglects her teenage daughter for her own worldly needs?

A collection of darkly imaginative and fierce short stories with endearing characters that are vulnerable, and sometimes shockingly make you feel like you’re walking across a high-tension live wire with sparks crackling about.

Unlike most short stories that leave the reader without an ending, in this book each story comes to a dramatic and unexpected resolution.

It is not only fresh and exciting but is composed of many of life’s lessons that unfold with each character’s own morbid version of hell. Razor-edged words that are simple and straightforward will keep you emotionally glued to the page.

Amelia Misfortune Part 1: What happens when a single mom abuses and neglects her teenage daughter for her own worldly needs? Amelia must learn how to survive after a tragic accident without any help from her alcoholic mother.

Sampler: Teardrops Fall

Amelia Misfortune: Part 1

My mama is mean and she treats me badly every day. I’m twelve years old, we don’t get to choose our parents or family, life makes that choice for us. Parents take it upon themselves to have children, but they can’t be bothered to take care of them. I’m not lucky either, I’m the only child. My mama drinks all day until the dark of night. She stays in her room, then like a zombie she’s gnashing her teeth at me; my dad left her and married someone else. He doesn’t call me anymore because mama yells at him. She never got over dad leaving, so she drinks more each day. I make dinner every day, a can of ravioli and some days it’d be toast when we have bread. I go to school with package crackers in my backpack and I drink water at school, never juice or milk. Mama makes it tough for me. One night, her boyfriend, one of many came toward me; he’s dirty and smells. He’s a biker guy who always touches my hair and face when he gets the chance to, he’s disgusting. The kids make fun of me at school because my clothes are wasted and old while theirs are clean.  My clothes have holes, and I don’t know how to sew yet, and they are too big or too small for me. My shoes don’t fit properly, they hurt my feet, but I still have to wear them. My hair is all tangled and messy, but I twist it and wear it in a bun because I don’t have a comb or brush. My teacher Mr. McGee makes me read the stories I write. He says they are very superior and the way I read is perfect. He always gave me a perfect grade and a candy bar. He was nice to me and sometimes he would buy me a hot lunch in the cafeteria. I was grateful and hungry. I go home trying to do my homework, but mama is feeling sick and is vomiting all over herself. I clean up the floor around her bed. We don’t have a television, so I read lots of books from goodwill. I wake up late for school; there’s no breakfast, and mama looks like a zombie. She has no clean clothes to wear, and neither did I.  I had to take mine from the hamper in a rush, and they smell like vomit. The kids at school were cruel and told me I smelled like a dead animal. I was bullied every day for something. One day I was running to school, I crossed the street and didn’t see a car coming, it hit me–knocking me in the air, and when I hit the ground, I thought every bone in my body was broken. People surrounded me, and I heard a loud noise ringing in my ears. “Everyone, please stand back, please,” a man shouted.  I couldn’t move my fingers or toes, and I knew I was hurt. My eyes closed and I drifted into darkness. Then I heard mama yelling to someone that they should just let me die because she can’t take care of me if I’m paralyzed.

“Miss Boyne, she’s your daughter!”

“Well, I’m poor can’t take care of her.”

“Please keep your voice down; she may hear you.”

“I need a drink,” Mama says!

My eyes open slowly to see my mama’s angry eyes staring at me, she was fuming.  The nurse checks my vital signs and my temperature. She asks me if I’m feeling okay. I nod, and Mama leaves with disgust.  I’m devastated, she really doesn’t want me; now that I can’t feel my legs, it will only invoke her hatred even further. My teacher Mr. McGee came to see me and bought me flowers and candy. He had pity etched on his face. He said that he would tutor me for free at my home.  That was so kind of him.

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