Walking Miles in the Rain

         I've always been that girl. The girl that never fit in, the girl who was so naive. My name is Malaya because of my red-orange hair. My name means "free" and "worthless". It's pretty accurate really. I'm just the girl with the head of flames and heart of ashes. I'm pretty much a downer because as naïve as I used to be, I now know the cruel intentions of reality. Some experiences will just do that to you. It also gives you a shitty point of view and massive trust issues. Once you learn life's evil game...you have doubts on the world and you never look at anything or anyone the same. You start to think what's the point? What's the point of living a life to die? It's all a joke. The only thing keeping me back from getting to the point was my parents. Well...parent it seems like. My dad is abusive. He is an alcoholic and he spends half his time getting drunk and the other half beating me and my mom. I spend half my time calming my mom down then the other half crying myself to sleep. I don't have a lot of friends well because I don't like people to put it bluntly. Besides quantity isn't quality, right? I'm the girl who cried in the rain...until that one person urged me to dance instead. Well this is my story, the girl who found a rainbow in the storm. I'll start from the beginning.