Love at Sight

Prolouge

When I was four years old, I heard choking from the room next mine, which was my parent's room. I ran in and I saw Mother, hanging on a noose from the ceiling. I screamed for Father, but by the time he rushed in, it was already too late. Mother had committed suicide. She had left a note written in blood on the table. It read, "It's all Camari's fault. She should have never been born."

After that, Father was always working to provide for us, so he wasn't there for me most of the time. Nonetheless, I loved Father. I understood how hard he worked each day.

Each night he got home pretty late. But one day, when I was seven, he didn't come home. I thought he was just working a little later that night, but I didn't see him the next morning either. I knew he wouldn't kill himself like Mother did. Father would never do that. Unlike Mother, he loved me. I was his whole world.

A few months later, they found his body in an evil man's basement. Father was tortured to death. When I was eight, I was forced to live with Mother's sister and the Satanic mistakes that she calls her children. However, they all thought I was the Satanic one. I was the back luck one. I was the hated one. They ignored me most of the time, which was fine by me. I don't like my aunt and her children. I was told I had other relatives that were willing to take me, but they lived in Japan, and I already had my aunt and my cousins in America, so they wouldn't let me go. I thought I would never be happy. I was "the child of Satan" as my relatives in America would call me. I wasn't allowed to be happy. I wasn't meant to be happy.