The Red Rose

Hurt, Broken, Deserted: those are the words that describe my life at this very moment. I would tell you my name if it was even worth anything, and I am worth nothing, not even a measly little penny. I should be dead, everything that has happened proved that my life was a mistake, or a negative copy of someone else's perfect life. I am not normal, I live alone with no home; I wish I was one of those stereotypical teenagers. I know that they are not considered the best influences, but at least they have something to call their own.