The Death Of Me

Vivian Adair. age 17. chocolate curls, green eyes. and a sucker for any lemon candy. also a sucker for anyone extremely hot.
I live with my pet, my friend and her son. and as an orphan in the run-down part of town, I skip school on a daily basis, meet up with my homies in that typical dark alley-way, and drinks like nobody's business. about the best life, anyone could imagine, you would want to be me. Wait, no.truth is, ya don't. Wanna know why? yeah, well, one thing, there's a memory gap from age 12-16. meaning I have no memory of those early teen years. another thing? I've been in more accidents than you can count, car crash, faulty harnesses, bad timber, unstable building, fires, slippy roads, creepy animals, you fucking name it. and the last thing? my parentage. yeah, I'm an orphan. but not because my parents are dead. they just hate me enough to abandon me at a creepy orphanage. seriously! they left a toddler at the doorstep of an orphanage for 'misfit kids'.

so I'm summary of my life, by the age of 17, I've been abandoned by my parents as a baby, escaped the orphanage at the age of seven, made a few friends, got a job, got my own house at age 12, lost my memories, saved a cat, joined a gang, got enrolled into school by a step-in mum-friend, broke some hearts, broke some buildings, got a new job, and slept with a billionaire. oh, yeah. did I forget to mention that? oops, my bad.