I was the most depressed than I had ever been before. I don't know why, but it suddenly seemed as if God turned on me and hated my guts.
My name is Ava Cena. Yeah, that's right, I'm John Cena's sister. Sometimes it really sucked. My family always acted like he was the perfect child, and I was just a piece of shit. John was popular in school, and he always got good grades. I wasn't very popular, and I didn't get good grades. It wasn't because I wasn't smart. I was actually pretty smart, it was just that I didn't try my hardest. But whatever. My grades were one of the reasons I was feeling depressed. I had just gotten my report card for the first-quarter in school, and I had failed math, and got all C's in almost every other subject. It wasn't the actual grades that were ruining my life, it was the RESULT of my bad grades. Because of all my low marks on the report card, I was no longer allowed to be on my school's cheerleading team, which I loved.
Another reason I felt like crap was because John was hanging out with his friend, Dave Bautista, at our house that afternoon, and they were wrestling so I went into John's room to see what the hell they were doing. Of course my day just had to get worse when Dave went to punch my brother. John ducked, and Dave's fist went directly in my nose. Now I couldn't feel or move my fucking nose.
ANOTHER reason for my depression was that my parents thought I was the screw-up of the family. It never bothered my before, but lately it was getting under my skin. They were always comparing me with John and making me feel like I wasn't good enough to be a part of my family.
And the last reason was that I kept thinking of that day…that horrible HORRIBLE day that would be with me for the rest of my life. The scene kept playing over and over in my mind. His image kept popping up in my mind. No matter how hard I tried I could never forget what happened. Everything that he did to me would stay with me forever. It happened, he did it, and he could never ever take that back. It was done and over with. After all those times we had together, he stabbed me in the back, leaving me alone and on my own. Every day and every night I wondered if he thought about me the same way that I thought about him. I doubted he did. This was all his fault. Everything that was going on was because of him. He's the one to blame. The day he left had left me cursed.