Sierra

This young lady is my middle daughter, Sierra.  Sometimes I think I don't know where I went wrong with her, because she is an absolute train wreck. 

She's at Fort Starch now, serving her sentence. 

She posted pictures on her Simbook page playing with fireworks in her dorm room.

 

My older daughter, Sage (bless her), found knives and all kinds of stuff in her bedroom in Hidden Springs when she was rooting through it. 

Then, when Sierra went to the university to take her placement test, I found her sitting at the table in the pizzeria with two random college guys bragging about the size of her rap sheet.
"You got a rap sheet?" asked the black-haired guy.  "You're a little pipsqueak."

 

"Professor Cheesman's daughter, right?" asked the copper-haired guy with sunglasses.

"Yeah," she said, introducing herself as Sierra.

"Can't wait till you get here," he laughed.

 

She is PROUD of what she's done. 

 

I don't understand it at all.  And I don't know where it comes from.

 

 

Sure, I admit, I was a wild teen, myself.  Stubborn as anything, wouldn't listen to anyone.  I got busted a few times after coming from the catacombs late at night.  But I wasn't like this.  And neither was my husband.  Nobody in my family, not even Neil, was like this.   And I don't know why she is like this.

 

 

I keep wondering what I did wrong, if I didn't give her enough attention when she was a baby or something, for her to be behaving this way now.   

 

I'm just at a loss for answers.