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I Only Shoot Up With Your Perfume

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1 Chapter - 595 Words - Developed by: Veronika<3 - Updated on: 2017-02-03 - Developed on: - 723 taken- Die Geschichte ist noch in Arbeit

Eliza, Who is a 21 year old girl, is working so hard to purchase tickets to her favorite band. She takes it hard after she finds out her money has disappeared and now she has no idea what to do.

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I Only Shoot Up With Your Perfume Developed by: Veronika<3 Eliza, Who is a 21 year old girl, is working so hard to purchase tickets to her favorite
I Only Shoot Up With Your Perfume

Developed by: Veronika<3
Eliza, Who is a 21 year old girl, is working so hard to purchase tickets to her favorite band. She takes it hard after she finds out her money has disappeared and now she has no idea what to do.

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When I say I am done with my family I mean it. I hate being the only who understands me. I hate it. Someone find me someone. Okay, so maybe I should start by saying that my name is Eliza. I am 21 and I still live at home, I know, pathetic. I had to dropout out of college to take care of my siblings. My money went to their expenses and their food. I had no money and a job that was paying minimum wage. My mom and dad were addicts, addicted to heroine. My siblings needed me and I needed them. I do anything to help them.
All I have ever wanted was to go to a Panic At The Disco! concert. So I decided to save up money when I heard the were coming to my city. I saved money in a hidden jar in my room. I didn't want my siblings or parents to find it. If my siblings found it, they would of bought some stupid thing with it. If my parents found it, they would spent it on a new dose of heroine. I had 6 months to save up the money. The meet and greet tickets were to expensive for me, so I decided just to be happy that I would have tickets.
Finally I had gained enough money. I went to my hidden jar to put the last 10 dollars in it. I look under the bed and no jar was to be found. I immediately rushed out of the room and into my parents room, because I knew it was them. There was a feeling of it being them. A gut feeling. I open the door to see them shooting up. "Where did you get the money to purchase that dosage? Was it the jar under my bed?" "No, Baby girl we'd never do that." "Oh like the one time you said you wouldn't take money out of the kids' college fund?" "Elizabeth, we needed that." "Like you need my money? Fuck you guys! I'll clash fucking cops you sick son-of-a-bitches!" "If you call the cops, the kids' will be put in foster care. You'll never see them again." I couldn't call them. They spoke the truth. I would never see them again. I guess no concert. My family was more important.

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