My name is Lucy Higgins and I'm 17 years old. I'm from Dublin, Ireland but when I was six my mom Lauren, my dad Peter, and I moved to the big apple. My mom had gotten a new job at the World Trade Center. Her first day at her new job was September 11, 2001. She died that day. Being six years old at the time, I didn't fully understand what it meant when someone died. I didn't understand why my dad wasn't around as often. As I grew up, I began to realize it was his way of coping with what happened. When I turned 12 my dad introduced me to his new girlfriend and within that year they were married. That's when I began to rebel. I party, drink, get high all the time, and it's safe to say I'm not a virgin. My dad works for the NYPD and he's caught me a few times drinking or smoking weed. The last time he caught me he said was the "last straw". He found out his brother Paul will be in America for a few a months and asked if I could go around the country and stay with him. I wasn't totally opposed to it until I found out who else I will be living with.