When I was born my family rejected me. They gave me to a woman who didn't believe in bad luck. Who didn't believe that I could be bad luck… she was wrong. It wasn't long before things started going wrong. She lost her job, her fiancé left her, she became depressed. I did what I could to help her but one day she just didn't wake up. This was my fault, I brought her bad luck.
Shortly after her sister took me in. This woman had a young child who I often spent hours playing with and running away from. It was such a lovely home. Then there was an accident. They never came home.
I was placed in temporary care in a horrible building until I was adopted again. This time when things started to go wrong I ran away. I wasn't on the streets for long before he found me. I didn't want to hurt him but he wouldn't let me leave. I grew so attached to him. I trusted him. I don't know why but I did. I trusted him not to get hurt.