I'm an ordinary girl. At least, I'd like to consider myself one. I keep my grades along the range of B's. I'm not necessarily popular. My mother is a doctor, which brings our monthly income up through the roof. Sadly though, all great things must come to an end. One miserable day, mother was considered guilty for robbery of a high paycheck of one of her fellow workers. She was fired, and, like that, father developed his drinking and spending habit. We were soon kicked out of our huge mansion down in Tampa due to not being able to afford the monthly payment. That's where it all began. My depression. My thirteen year old brother didn't understand anything. Those cuts, bruises, and scars were a habit. A bad one that I would never stop.