The Last One Of The Clan

The Last One Of The Clan

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Dec 16, 2016
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Fiction
Fantasy
Hii my name is Alexandra Hvalgensing , I'm the last survivor of my clan the Hvalgensing. They are the clan of hunters , that stayed between the humens and the supernatural world. But that is not like what you expected strong worriers that now combat ,but that's not,me I'm a normal teen I'm 17 years old . That leaves with her parents, but my parents are not normal . My dad is in the army he is in combat and specialist in killing people , how do I know cause he makes me take classes of boxing,judo, and marshal arts ,defend techingues.a part from that he also thought it how to shot a gun . And my mom ,she is the last disended of the havljensing clan. She is the Queen the true disended and the last one with true blood ,but that was before they had me. It was a peciefull life that ended in in a car acident that killed my parents that when my life as a teen will change. Everting will be different went to extrime to survive this cruel world .
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Loneliness. Depression. Broken. Scared. Devastated. Hopeless. Mournful. Disheartening. Bleak. Joyless. Somber. I have no one. Depression and Loneliness are the only things I feel. My family tries to make me happy, but I just put on a fake smile and cry about it in my room. They act like everything is alright, but everything is not. They KNOW I was devastated about Mom's murder. They KNOW I was heartbroken about Dad's sickness that eventually killed him. That's all I've thought about. Devastation and heartbroken. Just because of those two things. Never in my life I have been this devastating. Dayton, Hayden, Angel, or Monica know how to make me truly happy. Not even my own siblings know how to make me show a real smile. Suicide is all I can think about day to day and I've almost died because of that. DEPRESSION IS A REAL THING. NO ONE KNOWS HOW I FEEL EVERYDAY. NO ONE CAN JUDGE OTHERS ABOUT DEPRESSION OR EVEN MAKE JOKES ABOUT IT BECAUSE ITS A REAL THING. DEPRESSION HAS KILLED PEOPLE. EVERYONE IN MY LIFE JUDGES ME JUST BECAUSE I DON'T SMILE, LAUGH, HUG, OR DO ANYTHING NORMAL PEOPLE DO. I CUT MYSELF, I CRY, I YELL, I VENT, I PUSH PEOPLE OUT OF MY LIFE. Those are the things people are worried about me. "Go kill yourself and join your parents in hell." They say and I just shrug it off and find a private place to hide and cry it out. "I CAN'T DEAL WITH LIFE ANYMORE!!!!" I say and I use my sharp nails and cut myself then cry some more. A gun is buried within my arm for defense from my dad, but I use it in case I am tired of society. Then that's when I met the Host Club. They saw my sadness and made me a part of it to repay my debt for accidentally breaking a vase. I am now a Host for men to flatter them, but how can normal guys want me to be a Host when I wear lip earrings, eyeliner, chains, and have a gun in my arm? I'm the definition of Hell. Then he made me smile again, something that I thought I would never get back. Happiness.

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