I can do it with a broken heart

Introduction

Morana Ryde. What a fucking name. You know what Morana stands for? Death. Literally, look it up if you silly little untrustworthy asses don't believe me.

Moving on....

What exactly is death? Eternal sleep? Eternal rest? The exact moment that everything stops. Everything is suddenly black and your just done for? Everything you worked for in life is meaningless because you're gone? Your blood stopping pumping through your veins?

But no, It's more than that. It's not about how you die, or what happens to your body after you die. It is about where your mind and soul goes after you die. That, that, is what matters here.

Some may say you go to heaven or hell, if your are Christian. Buddhists and Hindus believe that souls are reborn based off their actions and karma. Chinese beliefs think you take a journey to the underworld, also known as Huangquan, where your souls are judged by the Ten Kings Of Hell.

While all of those could be true, I'm gonna tell you right now that they are not. All that talk about the ancient Roman's and Greeks, and they're Greek mythology bullshit...that, that, my friend, is real. And how can I prove it? Well, continue listening to my story, and find out.

Back to death, in Greek mythology. If you were a horrible person, and got coal in your stocking every year for Christmas, you'll go to the Fields of Punishment also known as Tartarus. And trust me, that is not the place you wanna end up. Just ask Sisyphus. The gods did not go lightly with his punishment.

On the other hand, if you were a decent person, you go to Elysium. Where you get praised for eternity, and you feel all the love and happiness one can get.

Why am I telling you this? Because, it's what my name means. Not that you specifically care, but later on it is important.

On that note, My name is Morana Ryde. You already know that, of course. And no, my father is not Flynn Ryder. If you were thinking that, respectfully fuck off.

Actually, I have no idea who my father is. What a prick he is. Not claiming me for two years. It really messes with me. Does my dad really think I'm that much of a fuckup to not claim me? Like what the fuck?

I need to know why my father left me with my mother. She definitely does not win mother of the year. Or mother of the century, she's an ass. She plays a huge role in why my mental health has been low sense I was a kid.

When I say part, I mean only part of the reason. After I was born, my father left. My mom thinks I am a curse for that, and then she got into witchcraft. What a fucking weirdo. Then she met this guy, Steven.

And boy, are they a great duo! He also believed in witch craft and all of that merry stuff! So they both believed I was a curse. They called me names, hurt me, threw stuff at me. He also did other things to me that I am not going to talk about, yet.

On the brighter side, when I was about 11, I got the hell outta there. And trust me, I thank the gods for that every day.

But after I got outta there, monsters basically picked up my smell fast. They hunted me down, and chased me into the woods. And sure enough I stumbled my little ass its way into Camp Half Blood.

In my early years in camp, I didn't really have a lot of friends. I got bullied, a lot. I have asthma, which sucks dick, but I'm convinced I will grow out of it.