6:54

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Sunday 27th of July 2013

Spartis.

That is the family name. Stella, Jason, Chase and Jordan Spartis. Though my name is Grace Jones, because for some reason my name wasn't officially changed when I was adopted. Maybe my name was apart of my being. Jordan is the same age as me and we are pretty much best friends, well so she says anyway. Apparently when we first met we hated each other, but when the adoption shit when down we kind of mended our hatred towards one another and realised we actually got on pretty well. Chase is fifteen, almost 16 and is like my go-to guy. Sometimes he speaks his mind without thinking about it and can sometimes be really weird, but we love him anyway, and somehow so does everyone in his grade. Stella was the sweetest, most Beautiful soul on the universe. When she first picked me up in Brisbane she ran into the glass door and walked into the wrong room, and stupidly enough booked a flight that left two hours after her meeting with me. Then there was Jason. He was the over-protective step father that worked was a personal trainer. He was the awkward sort of guy, kind of backs off when necessary. He likes to make me eat eggs every morning for breakfast. Together as a family we have two dogs, Tonka and Lucy, both of them Labradors. Apparently when I first arrived, Tonka was just a baby and was meant to be sold but him and I clicked like two peas in a pod. 

My past was difficult, from what I can remember. I was abused until I was 11 and then from there I was chucked into foster homes. I have tried committing suicide 6 times, and each time I was chucked away like trash. The only reason why I wasn't sent into a psych ward was because John, the man that arranged my previous foster parents, vouched for me each time. Said that it wasn't worth me going in. I honestly don't know how he got me through it all, because legally it's compulsory, even if it's just for a little while. When I got to Stella's home, though, I made a friend like me. Lola. She helped me through my troubles and I got a lot happier with myself. She told me it was okay to be sad and that she'd do everything in her power to help me through my troubles. After she left I flipped a new page in my life and apparently I wasn't coping as well as I wanted to. Six months later as I was hit by a truck and lost most of my memory. 

Okay, so the truth was Jordan told me most of that. I'm still only remembering fragments of my past, and each time Jordan would fill me in on the rest. I guess it was strange hearing someone that wasn't me tell me everything i've been through, but I'd rather hear it from someone else then never know it happened.

I was leaving the hospital after 4 weeks of living in the same room, and I couldn't be more excited to see outside of the hospital's gardens. I was excited to go home and see my old personality. They say someones bedroom says a lot about themselves. I wondered if I was the girly type of person, or the complete gothic type. My clothing interests say that I'm inbetween punk and rock, and the music on my phone suggess the same, but you never know. I could have a creepy obsession for dolls for all I know. Maybe I liked collecting things in jars like fetus mice and dog eyeballs. 

We were in the car on our way home and I was feeling guilty for leaving Alex behind. I promised him I'd visit him every day and I planned on keeping my word, but I just felt bad for getting better while he was getting worse. He told me yesterday that he's decided to stop the chemo because it isn't working and he doesn't want to be feeling so shit through out his last days. I can understand, though I wished there was hope that he'd still be getting better. He was my first friend since waking up -Apart from Jordan- and him dying scares the hell out of me. I just want him to get better. I thought about how Miles from Looking for Alaska would deal with this, and that thought stuck in mind all the way home.

When we arrived to the two story, suburban looking house, Stella showed me to my bedroom. I walked in and I dropped my bags on my bed. Immediately I walked over to my chested drawers. Sitting on top wasn't much. There were photos of me, Jordan, and I'm assuming Lola, but I didn't really know if that was her. She had dark hair though. Below them was a ticket to VANS Warped tour and a photo of me with the tag around my neck. I was laughing and I looked generally happy with my life. Behind me was the Warped stage and a band was playing but I couldn't tell which one. I was wearing a pair of sunglasses and my hair was blowing in the wind.