Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > The Music Or the Misery
Kendall followed her mother into the worn old apartment complex and into a dingy, weathered apartment.
"So here we are," her mother smiled,"Welcome home!"
Kendall ignored her, following her down a hall and into a dirty white-washed room with a single four post bed and a dresser in it.
"This is where you sleep," her mom told her.
Kendall walked in and dropped the bag on the floor.
"Are you hungry?" the woman asked.
Kendall nodded her head silently, sitting down on the bed as her mother disappeared into the kitchen.
Kendall surveyed the room around her; the paint was chipped and the floor was scuffed and filthy. Kendall felt like a prisoner here. This wasn't home, she knew that much.
Moments later she appeared in the doorway again, "Come on, dinner's ready."
Wordlessly Kendall stood and walked into the equally dirty kitchen.
She sat down across from her mother and picked at the macaroni and cheese that had been set in front of her.
"I'm so glad you're home," her mother smiled,"We can be a family again."
Kendall glared at her mother,"No, this isn't home. Home is where your parents teach you how to ride a bike, or get all choked up on your first day of school. Home is where your parents actually give a damn about you. This isn't home," she seethed.
Her mother sat staring at her silently, stunned at what her daughter had just said,"Are you done with your little tyrade? I hate to break it to you, angel, but this is home now. I think I know how to raise my own daughter."
Kendall rose from her seat,"No, you don't. You're not my mother. You're dead to me," Kendall said, turning and walking down the hallway,"I'm not hungry."
She ran into her room and fell onto her bed. She buried her face in her pillow and cried.
She wasn't staying here.
"So here we are," her mother smiled,"Welcome home!"
Kendall ignored her, following her down a hall and into a dirty white-washed room with a single four post bed and a dresser in it.
"This is where you sleep," her mom told her.
Kendall walked in and dropped the bag on the floor.
"Are you hungry?" the woman asked.
Kendall nodded her head silently, sitting down on the bed as her mother disappeared into the kitchen.
Kendall surveyed the room around her; the paint was chipped and the floor was scuffed and filthy. Kendall felt like a prisoner here. This wasn't home, she knew that much.
Moments later she appeared in the doorway again, "Come on, dinner's ready."
Wordlessly Kendall stood and walked into the equally dirty kitchen.
She sat down across from her mother and picked at the macaroni and cheese that had been set in front of her.
"I'm so glad you're home," her mother smiled,"We can be a family again."
Kendall glared at her mother,"No, this isn't home. Home is where your parents teach you how to ride a bike, or get all choked up on your first day of school. Home is where your parents actually give a damn about you. This isn't home," she seethed.
Her mother sat staring at her silently, stunned at what her daughter had just said,"Are you done with your little tyrade? I hate to break it to you, angel, but this is home now. I think I know how to raise my own daughter."
Kendall rose from her seat,"No, you don't. You're not my mother. You're dead to me," Kendall said, turning and walking down the hallway,"I'm not hungry."
She ran into her room and fell onto her bed. She buried her face in her pillow and cried.
She wasn't staying here.
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