Prologue
Is there such thing as an human soul? As I lay in my hospital bed, I wonder. How would soul's even work? What exactly would a soul even be? A life force? Which makes me wonder, are human personalities created from birth? Was I chosen by a higher power to be clinically depressed from the beginning; from my birth?
The sound of the a bickering nurse is drowned out. The only thoughts that fill my brain are what my story will actually include. My doctor says that would be safe; a way to get my thoughts out. But then I laugh, since as a reader, how would you even know that what I say is true? If it's from my perspective, obviously the storytelling would be bias. I doubt any symphony would be felt for my pain and misery. Honestly it's ridiculous. My brain almost automatically brings situations to the extreme. However, if you really want to know about my life a good place to start would be April of my freshman year; when my grandma was taken away from me.