Hope For The Crazy

"Unlucky" Is My Middle Name (Prologue)

In my life, I have a tendency to attract the worst of luck. Literally, wherever I go the misfortune follows. I'm pretty sure "Unlucky" is my middle name, and Maria is just a cover story. Don't get me wrong; I have a pretty good life. I'm just unlucky. I guess I used my whole life's worth of luck on being born to wonderful parents, making the friends I did, and other things here and there. Which is great and all- except for the fact that now bad luck lingers around my every corner. Oh life! Why must you be so unfair?

Any-who, in case your not convinced that I am actually the spawn of bad luck itself, and not some whiney 16 year old girl... I'll tell about the worse thing that has ever happened to me. The worse luck I have ever had came to me when I was entering grade school:

That summer my family moved to Henderson (NOT Vegas). Shocked by the immense summer heat, I stayed inside for the rest of the vacation. So by the time school started I was utterly friendless. The weekend before the first day of grade school, my mom thought it was time to get me "out there". So she RSVP'd me to go to my neighbor's birthday party. Well, as it turns out... The girl was turning 10 (twice my age) and, to be frank, was a little devil. In order to express her dominance and because she is directly related to Satan himself, she forced me to eat all these food combinations that her and her friends were creating, while spinning around in a twirly chair! To make matters worse, I was still recovering from the stomach flu. To sum things up, I got sick and left the party early.

What's worse is, I haven't even gotten to the bad part yet. No, what happened afterwards was 10x more life scaring.

Being the star student I was, I would never miss a day of school. Nope! Instead I toughed it up and went to my first day at grade school. Unfortunately, I was in so much pain, I couldn't concentrate on any of the discussions. Everything was a blur until I got to math class. The teacher cheerfully announced that we were going to play a math game to introduce ourselves. It was simple; we say our name and our most interesting talent. Then we answer an easy math problem. When they finally got to my name, I felt like death had taken up a new home inside me. I stood up and the teacher asked me my name with a smile. It took everything in me to croak/whisper the words Liana Vincent without passing out. She shot me a look of concern and asked me if I was all right, to which I quickly reassured her I was. But in actuality I wasn't okay at all. I couldn't hold it in anymore... and moments after she asked what my most interesting talent was, I blew chunks all over the kid in front of me.

Anyway, I was sent home with a fever, made a life-long enemy, and was remembered as "the girl who's most interesting talent is puking" for the rest of elementary school.

After that, I stopped talking and decided not to trust anyone. That lasted until middle school started and I met my best friends Renee Versus and Annie Terrel. Annie and I became friends because no one else wanted us: Me for not speaking to anyone, her for speaking too much. Her go-lucky attitude and the fact that she was willing to uphold 75% of our conversations made me like her enough to befriend her. After a while, Renee came. Renee and Annie knew each other before middle school, so Renee hung out with us. At first it was awkward, but that didn't last long. Renee was the definition of a tomboy, even cutting her beautiful black hair boy-short and wearing cute bangs. She was incredibly tolerant and crazy in her own way.

Nowadays, our personalities have just mushed together to make three crazy versions of one personality. Seriously, ever since we became friends we have each changed drastically. Annie is more open and has somehow convinced an abundance of Asian transfer students to join our group. Renee joined the girly side. Wearing skirts, dresses, and growing her hair out chin length (even losing the cute bangs). I, well I have become more willing to let people in and talk more.

I suppose that is a bit of an exaggeration though, because despite how dearly I love my friends... I can't bring myself to fully let them in. I trust them, but not completely. I want to let them in, but I just can't bring myself to do it. I know they are aware of this fact, bust despite that, they still confide in me. I hope they can at least see that I'm trying to open up to them.

To stray away from the pessimistic conversation, I want to tell you the reason I am writing this. It is to let the world know that there is hope for the crazy. Hopefully, you will understand through my story. Plus- not to toot my own horn or anything- but it is a pretty interesting story. It's the story of an unlucky girl who took a truly jacked up trip down crazy lane. Anyway, the best way to tell it is to go back to the beginning.

It all started about 1 year ago...