Somethings are Better Dead
  • Reads 126
  • Votes 5
  • Parts 8
  • Time 1h 38m
  • Reads 126
  • Votes 5
  • Parts 8
  • Time 1h 38m
Ongoing, First published Apr 11, 2017
Mature
In 1712, I was born a healthy baby girl in Salem, Massachusetts. I was birthed into a relatively poor family that already had 4 sons, they didn't want another kid; especially not a girl. Soon all my brothers were married and had children of their own. So, when I turned 18 it was my turn.
 My parents wanted me to marry a boy from our village, I did not want any part of this, but per usual my parents forced me to. Too soon, we were married and everything was ok, but soon I became pregnant and that is where my life went downhill.
I died giving birth to a healthy baby girl that she named Celine.  But after what felt like a few seconds, I was back. I had come back from the dead and that wasn't the only surprise in store for me.
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What did they mean? I knew who I was, didn't I? I was Rosalia Mallory, a girl left on the doorstep of our town's foster agency to find a new home. From there I went through three homes before at the age of 16 instead of having to live in the group home I secured enough money to, along with the money the foster carers were given for me, to buy an apartment building. Alongside a job bartending and waitressing I had enough money to attend college and am currently studying Religion and Mythology, Creative writing and Art. Just a normal teenage girl with a normal life. But at the same time, I'm not. Who am I? Seems like the most cliché question a teenager can ask right? Except when your missing months, if not years, of your life suddenly that seemingly simple question takes on a whole new meaning. After all, if you don't know your whole past how can you answer that for yourself?