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I kneel before my evergiving mother asking, "Why, oh why wont you let me color my overheeding hair with the blessed lavender of life? The rose and the vilot put to one, conjoined into a breathtaking color, calling me twords the everlasting light of enlightenment." She simply says, "No." "Why mother, must you make me suffer through the depths of hell, no light in which to gleam, when you can easily color my hair lavender?" She plainly says, "No. When you move out, you can do what you want with your life." I run downstairs in despair taking only one thing i need to change her mindlessness. I dash upstairs, hurridly, and point it at her face. A gun, so elegantly collaberated from metal and wood, staring straight at her face. "Lemme do what i want, b***h!!!"
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