Battle scars

I walked into the warn down, manhattan apartment. It was sad. Well I wasn't sad. It looked sad. The room was dark, it was raining out side. I let out a small sigh as I let my tiny, 11 year old, body plop on the big red couch.

I should probably tell you a little about myself, ok. Here it goes. My name is Ruby Masita. Pronounced ROO-BEE MASS-EAT-A. I was born and raised in Tidler county Connecticut. My parents died in a head on, car to train, collision when I was 9, I've been alone ever since. Everyone thinks I died in the accident along with my parents. The newspapers say: missing child in head on collision. I haven't talked to anyone in years. As soon as I found out they were dead, I packed up all the money I could find in my parents safe, and ALLOVER the house. And left. Left for manhattan. I eventually arrived and snuck into an abandoned apartment. I never use electric, it costs money, something I don't have much of. I normally only spend 3-5 dollars a week on food. But I have one thing I like to do... One thing that makes me... Happy.... Makes me forget all the bad things... I paint pictures. Not just your normal paint and canvas pictures. My paint is blood red.

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Do y'all like it so far? It seems bad to me. Sigh. Haha. Sorry it's so short!