Hello, everyone! Another new story?! Yeah, I know, I know. I apologize for being so inactive lately. Not my fault. Well kinda, but you get the point xD.

With the creation of this story, I am sorry to say that Lost & Found: Secrets of Oona, will be discontinued. I needed to get rid of one story to focus on this one, and I decided to delete that one since it basically talks about the same topic

These are basically stories from six teenagers (The Bubble Guppies, obviously xD.), who all have hardships in their lives. Some of the stories might not be the most... appealing, but.. The show must go on!

Btw, they are human in this story~!

NOTE: I do not own the Bubble Guppies. Credit goes to the creators of the show.


Chapter 1: Listen.

Nonny Pirruccello, Age 16

I heard voices. Voices in my head that told me that this was right. That I deserved it. That the world would be much better off without my existence.

I was completely isolated. Alone. Scared. Would I die? Who would save me? Does anyone care? I knew good and well what the answers were: Yes. No. No. I knew it, but I didn't show it.

Each cut was a symbol: Worthless. Useless. Ugly. Unable to be loved. Hated. Pathetic. Nerd. Loser. Ungrateful. As soon as I came home from school, it was time to cut. Time to show the world that I was capable of something. Time to clean up the blood that ran. Time to hide the cuts from everyone. Time to act like I was okay.

But I know that I'm not okay. I have a problem. I am hurt. I am going crazy. At this point, I don't care if I die anymore. People always say stuff such as slitting your throat, hanging yourself or overdosing is an easy way to kill yourself immediately. But I don't do it. I don't even know why. It's like I want to live a long, painful life. A long, sinful life.

And at this point: I don't care.

Molly Gentilella, Age 16

She screamed. She fought. Her fits lasted for hours. And when she wasn't having a fit, she was in the corner, playing with marbles. She refused to go to bed, she refused to eat unless we were serving certain foods, she refused to laugh or even crack a smile, nothing. She wasn't normal, and that's what hurt me the most.

Her name is Landia Gentilella. My 11 year old sister. My 11 year old autistic sister. The girl who I looked up to for being so strong for so many years. The girl who my parents refused to acknowledge as a child. The girl that everyone thought was a burden to our town, a nuisance. As if they have never seen a mentally sick child.

I had grown to be her mother ever since her autism started getting worse. "Molly, go get your sister", or, "Molly, calm that child down!", were constant demands that came from my parents. I had grown to love her. I treated her like she was a normal child. Everyone else treated her like she was a wild animal. Even her own blood. AKA, My parents.

Even if I am only 16 years old, I have to go through the full parent experience. But I'd do anything for my sister. Anything.

Gil, Age 16

It's been two months. Two months since I've got up and left. And ever since then, I've been miserable. Roaming around the streets, sleeping in the rain, getting kicked out of parks sometimes, which were usually my sleeping spots, wearing worn out clothes, being looked to as a thug.

But I was tired of it. Tired of being an orphan. Tired of only seeing my biological parents when there was visiting times in jail, or when they felt like coming, which meant that they would only visit me once for about a few minutes. I was tired of being looked down on by the others. I was tired of having to move around almost every year. I was tired of it. All of it.

So I looked Miss Mariam in the face one day, and I said "I'm leaving you, and this shitty place, and never coming back!". And that was that. I took my bookbag and my leather jacket and ran off. They searched for me for three days, then gave up, probably thinking that the Juvenial hall would pick me up any moment now.

But it's been two months. Two long months.

Deema Wahler, age 15

They always find something to argue about. The beer cans that didn't make it to the trash, the lack of water bottles in the house, the centric air being on, even about who ate all of the poptarts! It's just like they lost their spark. They might not know it, but it affects me too.

Hitting each other, calling each other names, storming out of the house and not returning until a few days or weeks later, and ignoring me. It seems like this is what my parents do all the time. All of the time. It's come to the point where we don't even celebrate holidays anymore, with the lame excuse "I'm sorry Deema, I forgot.".

They've been "forgetting" for three years now.

A new hobby for my Dad is going to strip clubs, getting drunk, and taking it out on my mom. Slaps, punches, vulgar language, and ending up on the couch are exactly what happens when he returns. It's as if he stopped loving the family altogether.

My mom, on the other hand, works her ass off as an Elementary school secretary, with a waitress job at Denny's on the side. If anything, she is more deserving than my father ever was. Even if she does ignore me, I know that she is working hard to keep this family together. Unlike my father. Who is trying to split this family apart, obviously.

Remembering when I was six, and how my mom and dad loved each other so much, and loved me so much, and took great care of me, hurts. Because I know that my family might not ever go back to being that way.

Never.

Oona Shaskan, age 15

Hello, my name is Oona. And I have Childhood Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. I was diagnosed with it when I was seven or eight years old, and all I really remember is that it has stuck around with me since then. Mulitple visits to doctors, chemotherapy, I'm used to it all.

I barely go to school anymore. And if I do, I put a cap on my head, only to be stared at and felt sorry for, for almost the whole day. People ask if it hurts. People ask if I have the possibility of ever feeling better, ever again.

But it hurts. Alot. It hurts to know that I could die at any moment. It hurts to know that my family can't do anything about it. It hurts to know that my childhood was lost, to hosptial visits and surgeries. It hurts to know that I won't be able to fall in love. Because I'm a cancer patient and the closest thing I'll ever have to true love is my family and others who support my well-being.

Every now and then, I wonder if I'll ever have the possibility of feeling better. If I could ever be "normal" again. If I could last atleast a month or two without one doctor visit. If I actually won't die.

But I'll never know, unless I stay strong.

Goby Imani, age 16

Alchohol and drugs mess people up in many ways, right? Hangovers, getting high, possibly arrested, doing stupid things, doing things that you won't remember the following day.

Well, for my parents, drugs and alchohol make them angry.

And who do they take their anger out on?

Me. Their only child.

Locked in the closet or in the basement for the whole day, lack of food, beatings, insults, even being burned if I did something that is considered "extremely" bad. Such as yelling for help, talking back, or not responding immediately to their calls. They even make me stay home from school for a week or two to torture me in the closet. In which, I get whipped with a rope, burned, and even cut. And when I do go to school, I have to wear baggy clothes and sneakers with my toe sticking out. To top it off, I am only allowed to take 2 minute showers on Sundays.

But when they are "sober", they don't hit me at all. They ignore me, and feed me very little. Such as half of a sandwich and some juice. But I'm grateful, because as long as I'm with these maniacs, that is all I'll really recieve.

But everyday, I ask myself the same question:

What happened to the kind, loving parents I originally had?

Six different stories, six different experiences, and six different teenages.

All staying strong to bare through the hardships of life.


And.. DONE! Shoutout to Authorgirl12, Amberstone12 and Princess Caveia 1234, who supported me in the making of this fanfiction. Also, I understand that the content might be too much to handle, but this is a fanfiction based on inspiring stories from 6 fictional characters. I hope you like this fanficition and make some good connections.

Bye-cha-ko!