Chapter 1
Why must life be so difficult? We try every day to be ourselves, yet none of it seems to matter. Everyone has a way of dealing with the sadness and pain that we all deal with. My way of dealing with it is by cutting my legs. No one has noticed so far. They all think I just have issues going to the bathroom. No one asks me why I take so long to come out and why I wear a fake smile. Not that any of them would know that I cut myself every time I hear harsh words said to me or about one of my friends. Why must life be so hard to live, and why can I not just leave this world behind. The answer is really simple; I have friends to care for and a little boy to care for.
Sorry for most of you this probably is very confusing. My name is Trina Misoa and this is my story. Let me begin from where it all started. It was my fifth birthday party and I had everyone there. We were all happy, but then the accident happened. My mother was driving drunk as we made our way to my older twin brothers' graduation. My father was trying to convince her to not drive any further and to let him take over. She wouldn't let him and another car came speeding down the highway. You can probably guess what happened next. Mother wasn't watching and we crashed. The guy in the other vehicle was killed due to the impact and my mother was hospitalized. She later died due to blood loss and a weak heart. When my brothers found out they were furious. They blamed father for letting her drink and drive in the first place.
After that horrific day, my life got worse. Father took everything from my brothers. He blamed himself just like they had been blaming him. I even sometimes tried to help him cope with mother's death by telling him it was not his fault and that I still loved him as my father. This continued for many years until my father had finally had enough. He decided he wanted nothing more to do with my brothers. He packed his bags one day and was driving away from the house leaving me there with my brothers. We never heard from him again. I however found out what happened to him after getting called into my teacher's office one day. She explained to me that my father had driven off the edge of the highway into a grove of trees and was pronounced dead after they found the car. I had finally had enough and went to speak to my brothers about it, but they didn't seem to care. They told me he deserved it and that if I brought him up again, they would do unspeakable things to me.
I felt as though I was trapped in a horrific dream after hearing them say that, but that was then and this is now. I am now 10, and am going to school in a few weeks. My brothers had kept me at home teaching me things, but I didn't like their lessons. My brothers don't know that I am going to school and I would prefer to keep it that way. I have made a few friends when my brothers go away for work, but even they do not the suffering I am going through. No one does. Thus my story begins.