When I saw Evie, her innocent smile, her healthy glow something struck me suspicious. I don't know what it was, or why I thought that of such a sweet girl like Evie, but I decided to leave it alone.

I didn't want to make decision for Tracy. She was a big girl. She could do it herself. And I felt so guilty, almost as if I was putting a dent in her life. I was so busy, and I didn't' make the greatest money, and I also had a new boyfriend. So I treated Tracy like a bruise.. made sure not to hurt it any more then it was done.

So when she started wearing more revealing clothes, hanging out with people I didn't approve of, I didn't say a damned word.

But Tracy was slowly chipping, escaping from the innocent girl she once was, slowing growing more rebellious. Warning bells rang in my mind again and Evie was my first suspect. But I couldn't do anything, could I? Changing wasn't so bad.

I knew basically what was going on. I knew she had drank, I knew she had stole. But I never dreamed that it had truly spiraled so far out of control.

And I figured, when she was over her teen drama, she would turn to me for sympathy and I could reach for her again..

If only it had been that simple.

She started sniping at me for the simplest things, she got piercings, snuck out, all the while Evie by her side. Tracy went from playing with Barbie dolls, to being a barbie doll.

I wanted to cry, to scream.. it was as if she was no longer my daughter. We never talked, just exchanged shouts and screams. The pain was unbearable.. Tracy might as well have ripped out a section of my heart.

I felt like a vase, after a careless boy of twelve shattered me. Broken into a million pieces.

Or even a million and one.

And when Brooke came along, revealing this dark world that these naive teenagers had lived in, almost killed me. I wanted to shoot myself then and there.

Drugs, alcohol, sex.

How could it be just a few months ago, Tracy was reading me sweet poems?

I don't think I could ever forgive myself.

And when I saw the scars on Tracy's arm, I went hysterical. All her bottled up emotion and pain, slain on brutal scars and slits on her own flesh. My own flesh and blood, hurting herself like this, hurting me. Hurting her brother, and even her father who truly did care for her.

She had to resort to drinking, drugs, stealing just to escape from the world that apparently I had laid for her.

I blamed myself.. I could have taught her better.

And she found out to late the high price of popularity.

My baby.. oh how I love her.. I didn't love the things she did, but I loved her so much.

I would do anything for her..

Evie had made her drink deadly poison, could she saved? Maybe.. slowly...

In some ways I thank Evie. Tracy has learned.

But in some ways I want to wring her neck.. for she exposed my child from the life she didn't need to know.

Made her one of her own.

My poor, poor baby.