Chapter 1
I wasn't always like this. I didn't always think this much about these things. But I guess nobody ever does, being young and naïve. And I guess no matter what had happened to me, I still would have ended up the same, because that's fate right? It would have worked out exactly the same way. Except, what if it wasn't? What if who I am is completely my fault, and those moments in my life that seemingly changed everything, what if they constructed how I think today? Maybe life would have been simpler if I'd made better decisions. If I'd left school on time that fateful day, if I'd turned down the other street, if I'd decided what we were doing was wrong. So many bad decisions that could have changed fate. But that street was the only street that looked familiar. What we were doing didn't feel wrong. It felt totally right. And that night I left school late was the night I was with her. So maybe it wasn't those moments which defined who I am, maybe they just helped me realize.
I was born on the 15th January, 1995. I only had one sibling, my big brother Thomas. He was a lot older than me due to the fact that our mother had gotten knocked up by our Dad when they were both 18 and after having Thomas, Mum decided she'd wait until a reasonable age before having more kids. Thomas doesn't live with us though. He moved out to live a few hours away from us as soon as he turned 18. I was 8 at the time.
I remember the night he left like the back of my hand. He'd taken me out to see a movie - something he wouldn't usually do - but I was excited because he let me choose the movie - another thing he never let me do. I didn't know he was leaving until he told me on the drive back home. He said he needed to leave, but he'd miss me and he'd come and visit as much as he could. I sat crying the whole car trip home and as soon as I walked in the door I ran upstairs and locked myself in my room. He knocked on the door, "Go away!" I'd yelled.
"Come on sis, if you don't come out I won't get to say goodbye at all… And I won't be back for a few months."
I flung the door open, collapsing into his arms as I did and bursting into tears. We walked down stairs and stood on the footpath outside our house. He hugged both my parents and then me.
"I love you the most, sis, don't forget that." He whispered, and then without another word, he drove off. I ran back to my bedroom and locked the door again, while another round of tears filled my eyes then spilt out the edges. I must have drifted off to sleep, because the next thing I remember, I was waking up to the morning sun flooding through my open window and my eyes crusted with tears from the previous night.
I don't know why it affected me so much, my brother leaving. We weren't even close. I suppose it was because I got lonely. When my parents were around, they never took me to play at the park like the other kids parents. They never took me to fly a kite or taught me how to ride a bike. That was left for Thomas to do. He had promised me he'd teach me how to ride a bike the Summer of 2003, and then he left. And when he said he wasn't coming back for a while, he meant it. So with him gone, I was alone.
The kids at school never really liked me. That was probably because I punched Noah Puckerman in the face on the first day of Elementary School. Not the best first impression. He'd started laughing at me because I had a purple Winnie the Pooh lunchbox, then he started calling me short and fat and some other names which I hadn't understood at the time, therefore I'm unable to remember them now.
Of course, having a brother who is ten years older than me had its perks. I knew how to put up with boys teasing me, and I knew how to fight back. Before I knew it, there were two teachers holding me by both arms, and Noah was on the ground, blood gushing from his face.
When the teachers told me that what I did was wrong, I looked up at them in confused and simply said "but it felt right." Apparently this was the wrong thing to say, and I was sent home early.
After that, nobody came near me. The girls whispered and stared and snickered while the boys avoided eye contact. I didn't care. I didn't need them anyway.
It was the same for five years. Kids tried to talk to me, but they all ended up running away from me crying. It wasn't that I didn't like them, I just didn't like people. I'd been let down enough. My brother had left me, my parents were never around, and every kid I tried to be nice to, ended up annoying me. So I gave up and decided I was better off on my own.
That's right. Nine years old and I'd already decided that no one was worth my time.
Until I met Brittany.