My mom didn't understand why it was so
˙sǝʎǝ ǝnlq ǝsoɥʇ ǝɹoɯ ʎlqɐqoɹd
awful that "that cute little girl" had held
sɐʍ ʇı ʇnq 'ssıʞ ʇɐɥʇ ɹǝʇɟɐ ǝsɐɥɔ ǝɯ
ǝpɐɯ
my hand. She thought I should be friends
ʇɐɥʇ ʎʇısoıɹnɔ ɔıɟıʇuǝıɔs ʎlʇɹɐd ʇsɐǝl
ʇɐ
with her. "You like soccer. Why don't you
sɐʍ ʇı ʞuıɥʇ oʇ ǝʞıl I 'ʞɔɐq ƃuıʞoo˥
go out there and kick the ball around?"
˙ǝǝɹʇ ǝɯɐs ǝɥʇ uo ɯǝɥʇ ʇnd plnoʍ ǝɔuǝıɔs
ǝuO
Because I didn't want to be kicked
˙ʇǝddıɥʍ ɐ puɐ ɟloʍ ɐ ǝʞı˥ ˙ʇsɐǝq
ʇuǝɹǝɟɟıp
around, that's why. And although I couldn't
ʎllɐɔıpɐɹ ɐ ʇnq 'ǝqʎɐɯ 'sǝıɔǝds ǝɯɐs
ǝɥ┴
˙say it like that at the time, I still had
ǝɯıʇpǝq ʇɐ pɐp ɹo ɯoW ɯoɹɟ ʇoƃ I ǝuo
enough sense at seven and a half to
ǝɥʇ ǝʞıl ʇ,uplnoʍ ʇı ʍǝuʞ I 'ʍoɥǝɯoS
know that Julianna Baker was Dangerous.
¿ʎɐʍʎuɐ ǝʞıl lǝǝɟ ssıʞ ɐ pıp ʇɐɥM