I never knew my mom, and because she was a teenage crack whore, I've lived my entire seventeen years like the ugly puppy in the pound, that no one has...the heart to put out of it's misery. Lush green hills rolled by outside my window. My face was in a blank stare, I stopped crying over foster families, I stop caring where I was, I would be an outsider wherever I went. The social worker's car smelled like old granny perfume, the fake leather seats were awkward and squeaked when I moved my left. Although thesecond period had lasted nine days, she'd hardly left then either.This time I thought I'd help her with some articles that would enableher to get out of that room and into the light of day. The more Ithought about it, the more difficult it became to not anticipate it. Maybe I could wait eight months. That might be ok, I thought.My hair now also made me think of her. Physically, I was the sameman I'd been before except for my hair. I'd told my girlfriend thatI'd taken rogaine. . More

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