(A/N): I thought I should add this. Oh well.
Life sucks. For some it sucks more than others.
This is a peek inside a sukky life.
~(::)~ ONE ~(::)~
I have a seven-inch gash on my left cheek and a scar from a stab wound on my gut.
I have always had to lie about them, say that I got the gash from falling out of a tree, or a car accident, or something else, and I just hide the stab wound, which my mom stitched up herself. My parents make me hide them, and I don't want to be taken away from them. They're the only family I've ever known.
Both of the marks are scarred over, just like my parents' faces. They never change. They always have this 'I'm innocent, it's her fault' look on their faces whenever they enroll me in a new school, or go for an interview to get a new apartment.
And it is my fault, in a way, that I have the marks. I get my dad mad a lot, and I don't know why. I flee to my room, sometimes; but most of the time it only makes it worse.
Not to mention that my parents are always fighting over money. Mom has a few scars, just like I do, but she can cover hers up, at least.
When we moved, I didn't think this move was going to be anything special. Meet somebody and have to lie about my face. Go to a new school. Get used to the new house. Move out whenever they think the authorities are on their tail. New place. New friends. New name.
I don't really have a name. I'm just whatever name my parents tell me to have.
This time, it's Coraline. Coraline Jones.
And this move turned out far better than I'd expected.
(A/N): It gets worse. Don't worry.
But once you've hit bottom, it's a lot easier to get to the top.