It's funny really, the way your life turns out. Not funny ha-ha, just… funny.
On the surface, I had a great start to life. Two parents who, by all accounts, were happy and loved up; financially stable, part of a huge family spanning the majority of East London, exotic holidays whenever they felt like it. But then I took off the rose tinted glasses, and saw everything as it really was.
You should try it sometime. No, seriously. Say you're walking down the street, and you see a young couple, walking along with their little girl. They seem happy enough; clasping each other's hands, talking and laughing while the little girl toddles alongside them.
Look closer. He's not holding her hand; he's gripping it in his. Why? Stopping her from running away? The little girl is walking as far away from them as she can; the father says something to her and she cowers away from him, only slightly; she realises her mistake and covers it up as quickly as you can, but her mask has slipped, slipped just enough for you to notice. The mother is wearing a lot of make-up; she's covering a bruise on her face. She's walking with a slight limp. She's not laughing, not a genuine laugh at any rate. They might look as normal as you and I, but to invoke that old cliché, appearances can be deceptive.
Not to sound selfish, but back to me. I'm the oldest of two; three, actually, if you count a brother that briefly flitted into my life whilst trying to con my sister. My dad wasn't like those dads that most people have. My dad was manipulative, abusive, and downright terrifying. He sucked you in with his charm and warmth, and then turned on you when you least expected it. And the worst thing is, some of that has rubbed off on me. It disgusts me to admit it, but he's shaped me into what I am today; the worst of him has become the worst of me, and I hate him for it.
My mum is another one who flits in and out when she pleases. Maybe, just maybe, we could have worked things out on her last flit. She wanted to try again; we needed her. I needed her. But then Dad reared his head from deep inside me, and I couldn't risk it. I couldn't have her poking around in my life, potentially destroying everything. Dad was like the devil on my shoulder, whispering into my ear, telling me how to get rid of her. And I did.
And now? Well, now I'm alone. I'm childless. Husbandless. Friendless. Completely and utterly alone.
I'm Veronica Mitchell. And my life has been one massive mistake after another.