Chapter 1: Prologue
Some days it's impossible to get out of bed, other days I get out of bed early enough to get out of the house before my father and sister wake up. I am not very fond of them…and they are definitely not fond of me. My mother ran away when I was eight. I am now seventeen. My father abused my mother for as long as I can remember. The night she left she set a note on my nightstand.
'You never know how much you really believe anything until it's truth or falsehood becomes a matter of life and death to you.'
I don't know what that means, but I will figure it out sooner or later. Anyways, I get straight F's in school, I use to be on the basketball team before my grades faltered. I was the best on the team. I had two best friends, Jin and Jet. We were all so close. But after they saw my old scars (I use to cut), they stopped being friends with me. They didn't give me a real explanation, except that 'I don't want to be friends with someone who thinks self mutilation is cool.'
They didn't get what I was going through when I tried to explain it to them. They thought I was making up that my father and sister abuse me. Maybe because my sister is two years younger than me, but there is no explanation for my father.
I don't have any friends anymore, and I'm completely fine with that. My sisters friends sometimes talk to me, Mai and Ty Lee. Mai talks to me because she likes me, it's not hard to see. Ty Lee talks to me because she think's if she sell's me some Avon cream crap that my scar will go away.
Yes, I have a scar. More of a burn mark though. Five years after my mother left, my father got pissed at me. I don't remember what for, pretty sure it had something to do with punching my sister. Anyways, my father was 'cooking' dinner, but in reality he was heating up the stove to barbeque my face on. When I passed him to get some Gatorade from the refrigerator, he forced my face onto the stove. I tried to fight him off, but I was thirteen, he was stronger than me.
Once I finally got him off of me, I ran away. It took me an hour to run to my Uncle's. Uncle Iroh. He's been more of a father to me than my own father. I knocked on his door continuously until he opened it. He took me to the hospital straight away, but the doctor said there was nothing he could do but bandage it and hope that it goes away in time.
It didn't.
My Uncle wanted to press charges, but I couldn't do that. I don't know why I couldn't, but it didn't feel right.
Moving on…Today I turn seventeen. Nine years ago my mother left me. Nine years ago I turned to cutting. Nine years ago I became clinically depressed. Nine years ago I felt like no one in the world cared for me anymore. But today, I am seventeen…and that's it.