When I was a little girl, I lived with my mother in a small apartment. My father had left before I had been born so it was just me and her.

She had been a drug addict since I could remember. Opium was a constant scent that lingered everywhere in our walls. She was constantly having opium parties which consisted of 30 or so druggies being stuffed into our tiny two bedroom apartment smoking opium and shooting cocaine, mixing the influences of drugs and alcohol.

The music at an earsplitting volume, I would attempt to hide in my room. Of course, people would still make their way into my room eventually but not as many as were in the living room. Some would hit me if I got underfoot, including my mother, and some would try to touch me a little too much. My mother never let any of them touch me to the point it could be considered more than just a bit creepy, but it still scared me.

I had very little comfort in those days. My mother only got me a few toys, and I was sure most of them had been found in the trash. I had a little bit of fake food, a couple of cars, as well as a doll.

The doll was my rock. It was the only thing my mother had actually brought to me brand new, and I adored it. She was a cute little baby doll, with soft hair and smooth skin. I remember playing tea parties with her and talking to her constantly. During parties, I made sure she never left my side. I called her Maddie.

I remember Maddie used to get me in trouble often. I remember that because I was constantly inhaling opium, it made me hear Maddie talk. She would ask me for things like for food and drinks during tea parties or blankets to cover up with when we were building forts. Whenever my mother caught me stealing food or blankets, she would scream at me and call me a liar. I didn't understand.

One night Maddie told me to grab some food for her. I sneaked off into the party and grabbed a slice of pizza that my mother had told me not to eat because it was for her guests. She caught me red handed and started screaming at me and I started crying.

"Why can't you just be a good little girl who does what she's told!?!" My mother yelled as she slapped me. That was the first time she had ever hit me. I started crying.

"Maddie told me to," I had sobbed.

"Who the fuck is Maddie?" She had asked angrily.

"My doll!" I had cried.

"We have been over this time and time again! You don't have a fucking doll! The doll you talk about doesn't exist! You need to stop using her as an excuse to get away with things!" My mother had screamed back and shoved me away.

Tears streaming down my face, and hate in my heart, I filled the bathtub. I grabbed Maddie and threw her into it and pushed her to the bottom, putting a large book on her chest so she couldn't float up and bother me. I collapsed on the floor and just sat there and cried.

About an hour later my mother told me to get whatever I was doing and get the fuck out of the bathroom. I screamed and grabbed Maddie and ran to my room. I chucked her out of the window that was in my room, into the trash cans down below. The trash truck came the next day and I never saw Maddie again. 

About a month later the police came and raided my house. My mother was taken to prison and I was sent to live with foster parents. The rest of my childhood was very happy and when I grew up, I got married and had two kids.

My mother called me from prison today and I agreed to speak with her in person. I drive down to the prison and sit down at the visitors' table. when my mother comes out, I don't recognize her. She recognizes me and sits down across from me, crying.

"Oh, my love I am so sorry. You are all grown up," She said, tears running down her face. I am still upset with her. My face is stoic.

"Yes. And I'm successful with a husband and kids, no thanks to you, you fucking bitch," I said. No regrets. I had been waiting 27 years to say that to her. She looks heartbroken.

"I know I gave you a shitty childhood hun, but I'm begging for your forgiveness. I have been with the loss of my daughters for the past 20 years, and I just want to reconcile with one of them," she said. I scoffed at the crazy bitch. Opium fucked with her head. I had been her only child.

"You're fucking crazy. I don't have a sister," I retort. My mother gives me a sad, confused look.

"Yes, you did," my mother says softly. "How could you not remember? Your sister is why I'm in here."

"No, you're in here for being a drug addict! For possession of opium, for endangering me, your only child," I said angrily. My mom looked at me in disbelief.

"No. I'm in here for the murder of your younger sister. She was found in a landfill. She had been drowned," my mother said sadly. I feel my heart stop. Tears slip from my eyes and a single word falls from my lips and my mother's eyes widen with understanding.

"Maddie."