Meg's Thought:
When you are loved it is not because of a miracle, but because it is God writing your fate as our fate was being written. When your opportunity doesn't come knocking at your door, build more doors for opportunity to knock at. your fate and opportunity is your life. My opportunity was my best friend and my savior from sixth grade. But my friend moved and my problem grew worse.
Chapter One
When I got to school the next morning my savior moved I wasn't the girl who walked in with confidence; I was the girl who walked in with a sulky look on her face. As I walk in I see my school garden. I see the rose bushes dead and dry, but when others look at them they see life - healthy life. I went home that day and as I walked through our creeky door I stepped on glass - beer bottle glass. That meant mom had left the hose drunk again, but dropped her beer on the way out. Hours passed... I was still alone... the way it always is... the way it should be. Sometimes I think I should be alone, always and forever... but in hell. I sat and thought... thoughts about suicide and death. People ask why I always were a jacket... to hide my scars. Though I never reply to the silly question, it's as if the people that ask the question know the answer. They just want to hear me say it. Say the truth. Then suddenly Mom walked in the house and in pain. I didn't move to help her. I let her suffer just like she let me suffer as an infant... a child. She would drop cigars on me when she held me as a baby and she would fall asleep. I have the burn marks to prove it. She called my name as if she was calling Bloody Mary and I was supposed to help her or else she would put me in the foster system. At last I got up to help her. She had slipped on HER beer bottle glass and cut herself. I saw the blood and it reminded me of my bloody mistakes. My savior, before she moved, told me to stop. At first I was clean for two months. Then she left and it started all over again.
