Huslter

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I really wanted to finish this book but the way it was going felt very cliché.


















Prologue

Watching my mom cry over her third boyfriend this month wondering why she always put herself in this predicament. I wiped the blood from her mouth and nose. Her eye was bruised and swelling. It's a shame she allows someone to do this to her.

"Tabatha, listen to me and listen to me well. Don't trust or fall in love with these niggas. Use them for what they can give you. You see me? I don't want you to be like me. Be better than me. You hear me?" She asked looking into my eyes.

I nodded and stood up. I left the bathroom and went to clean up the mess her and her boyfriend made in the living room. Stepping over the broken glass I shook my head.

I never want to live like this. Ever.

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