Yes, she was

Growing up was not a cakewalk for you too. You had to take care of yourself for most of the time. But you knew your mother had to work hard for both of you and you loved her for it. While she was in the hospital, saving lives and helping injured people, you spend your days at home and studied hard to follow her example.

Sometimes you visited her in the hospital. When you were old enough, you even tried to help as good as you could. In school it was not different. You didn’t made it out of middle school without four bloody noses and a broken arm because you stood up to bullies pushing around weaker students.

In high school you grow to a real beauty. Your curvy body drove boys crazy and girl jealous. Smart, good looking and kind to everyone, it was no surprise you were elected as the homecoming queen. Half of the school volunteered to be your date. Even another girl. You mother was so proud.

But now, all this is gone. The day began so normal but when you came home from school, everything changed. You saw the police cars and your heart froze. Two Officers were necessary to stop you from entering the crime scene. Not that there would have been anything you could have done. Your mother was already dead. Shot three times in the body. The murderer was gone when the neighbors called the police.

You take a last look in the mirror before turning around. Your beauty didn’t vanished since the homecoming ball. It even got better. Your face is cute but actually covered with smeared make up. Maybe your black hair needs a cut. It already goes to your shoulders. Your butt is round, firm and juicy without being too fat. And your perky tits have the size of softballs and stay in form even without a bra. Of course you wear one, but it wouldn’t be necessary. And for guys who like it sporty, under your top you have a small but well earned six pack when you tense your muscles.

When you turn around to return to the detective in charge, you almost bump into a punk girl around your age. Her hair is dirty, her lips and fingernails painted black and her clothes are a mix of biker and slut. You know girls like her from school. They hang around in some corners and sell ****. You mostly avoid them.

„Hey, watch your path, bitch!“ the punk says angry and balls her fists.

„What?“ you ask distracted, „forget it, I don’t care. Just leave me alone, please.“

„Who do you think you are?“ the girl says angry and pushes you, „you think you are something better then me?“

Right in the moment you think everyone in the whole town is better then this punk. But you have better things to do. The detective in charge understood that you needed a moment to take breath but he is still waiting in his office for you.

„Hey, bitch, I’m talking to you!“ the punk girl interrupts your thoughts aggressive, „apologize to me or I break you fucking nose.“

„Fine, I’m sorry for … whatever,“ you say annoyed and try to walk past the aggressive girl, „but if you don’t mind I have to go now.“

„No, you stay here, bitch!“ the punk girl commands and pushes you to the wall, „these fucking cops surprised me and I had to throw away pills. If I don’t give my boyfriend the money for them, he will fuck my ass. You look like you have money. You upper class bitches always have some cash. You can give it to me or I beat it out of you.“