Angels Of Darkness

Lost

I knew I loved music. In fact, it felt like the only thing I knew for sure in this miserable thing we call life. I grew up abused by my alcoholic father, and I never met my mother, as she died in childbirth. I have a stepmother who hardly acknowledges my existence, and a stepbrother who is a jock--far too cool to associate with someone like me. I wrote my own songs and played multiple instruments, but there was absolutely no way I was good enough to play in front of anyone else, and besides, doing so meant opening up, and I certainly had no intention in doing something as preposterous as that. You could call me a lot of things: anti-social, weird, emo, even, though the word itself irritates me, but, in the end, I was just your average suicide-driven, almost-seventeen-year-old, with unrealistic dreams of being noticed for something good.
When I was very young, I used to have dreams of falling in love with a handsome prince, just like every other little girl, but I was given a brutal wake-up call when my father started touching me inappropriately, and I started school. I had always been the weird kid. I'd been bullied ever since elementary school, and I had to realize that love didn't come for people like me.
Too depressed to focus, I made horrible grades--certainly not good enough to graduate. I was taking Apex courses to catch up on missed credits so I might graduate on time.
A good word to apply to me would be "lost", because that was simply what I was. I swam in a pit of darkness, nearly drowning in it perpetually. I saw no future for myself. Lost was me, my family, and my life. Everything had spiraled ever since my mom died, like water in a comode. Her death had hit flush, and I was just waiting for everything to go into that dark hole and never come out. Lost was my mother and my hope for humanity.