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So this is the prolouge to my new story. The picture is the main characer, Dean. I'll put up a picture of Emilia in the first chapter along with the roles and who plays who.

Nobody really knows who you are until you become somebody you’re not. Unfortunately for me, this is true and it applies to everyone around me. My family, for instance, hates me because I’m not the piece of clay they wanted to mold me into. They wanted a perfect, bland, unoriginal, copy-cat vase to sit upon their shelves of role model children. I was my parents favorite kid when I was young; they would always tell me “We’ll love you forever” and “We’re do proud of you” but when I turned thirteen, it was like they completely forgot that I existed. They shunned me from the family and told all of my brothers and sisters that they shouldn’t talk to me because I wasn’t ‘one of them’ and I ‘didn’t belong in the family’.

          After that, I never really talked to them again. I stopped talking to all of them except for one. My sister, Emilia, was the only one who loved me for who I am. Whenever my parents would fight, she would grab me and carry me to her room. She would turn off all of her lights and keep the white fairy lights on which hung from her walls. They were kind of dull, but they still gave off enough light to see across the room. Then she would put her headphones over my ears and play the song “Carry on Wayward Son” over and over again while rocking me back and forth until I fell asleep.

          She was born seven years before me and always looked after me. When I was hungry, she would sneak into the kitchen when everyone else went to bed and grab some strawberries for us to snack on. When I was sick, she would take care of me and make sure I took my medicine and ate well.  Of course, doing all these things for me, my parents shunned her into my posy of one. They threw her into the dump of disappointments, along with her fellow trash people. We didn’t need any of them anyway because we had each other. We survived off of our love and taste for freedom. Emilia knew we would get out of that house one day. And she did. Except, she left without me. She went to chase her dreams of being an artist and an author. To ‘write her stories and do her own illustrations so she wouldn’t have to pay someone’ as she would say.

          Yeah, I miss her like crazy and I have no idea how I’m surviving without her, but I’m happy she’s chasing her dreams. I would always tell myself that if she’s happy then I’m happy. But, whenever she called me every week, she sounded less and less excited over escaping the hell hole one would call ‘home’. She kept saying that she’s happy because she’s making new friends and learning to things, but I can tell she isn’t. She left a year ago and I still can’t fall asleep without listening to that one song and crying myself into nightmares. Night and day, whether it be a dream or real life, I’m in a nightmare without her. I love her, and I want her back to rock me to sleep again and to share strawberry after strawberry with.

          But, I’m only 15 and even if I run away, I have nowhere to go. No friends to tell my heartbreaking story of hate and regret. No family to share a warm house with. Nothing.

I’m alone in this world.

And nothing is going to change that.

Well, this is a story that's going to ruin my life because of the feels. Hope you enjoyed this as a little preview I guess.