Here goes. number one.

My mother was a drug attict.

Dear Mom,

When I was seven you picked me up from school. I was in the second grade. I got in the car and I started complaining about how Rachel, (that one girl that always made of fun me) was being rude again. You told me to ignore her, and I started crying and told you how you would never understand. We stopped at the post office, and you ran in really quick. When you came back out, you said we needed to go to Procter Valley, the police ended up finding a local dead girl there a few months after that. Once we got there you pulled out a needle, tied your arm of with a rubber band, and shot up. I will never forget this moment, because it was the first time I had ever seen you shoot up. I didn't think it was wrong. You said that you needed a shot. I understood. I guess it was our dirty little secret, that I didnt know I was holding for you.