I've always been the outcast. Misunderstood, they said. Hopeless, they said. See, all of this is true, but I suppose that I can't blame them for saying those things for two reasons. The first reason being, that it's all true. I am hopeless, I hate being social. I am a complete introvert.
The other reason being, they don't know my past. If they did, they might shut up and leave me alone. Yet, what our society has come to in this day and age, especially in teenagers, I highly doubt that they would.
So, I suppose you're wondering, how bad could her past be? Well, a lot of people have it worse than me, I understand that, but this is not about them.
My dad passed away when I was seven. Oddly enough, I remember everything. He had what they call, "non-small lung cancer." He went through chemotherapy, which did almost nothing. My mom and everyone old enough to understand, knew that he had a very little amount of time left.
I could not seem to grasp this concept. So, everyday when I came home from school, I would sit by his bedside and read, do my homework, or just talk. When he became too weak to talk, I would just ramble on about my day. Soon enough, they made him go back to hospital for good during the last month of his life. When the dreadful day came, my mom explained everything to me, and I ran into his room. The nurse had to drag me out with as much force as she could muster. All in all, it was devastating.
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Broken (Edited)
Ngẫu nhiên(Edited) You took my breath away. One look. One look was all it took for me to fall hard. Suicide. Death. Love. Pain. Heartbreak. This was all ordinary to 15 year old Emily Serola. Tragedy was all she knew from a very young age. It all started when...
