The Unforgettable Echoes Of Love

Background Story

I was born in the wrong family.

My biological mother and father were both nineteen when they got me. They were too poor to take care of a child but my mother wanted to keep me so badly and the social services let her. Needless to say that this was the worst decision they had ever made.

I grew up in a very toxic household with my mother drinking and smoking around me. She had been doing that ever since she got pregnant which caused me to live with this chronic mental illness called, Schizophrenia.

It has affected me my whole life, leaving me with traumas and regular episodes.

My father was barely in the picture. He had an on and off relationship with my mother but he ended up leaving her. I was only six but I remember how she beat me because according to her, I was the reason she couldn't be happy.

That was pretty messed up because I believed her and apologised but she did not want to hear anything. She was angry, and I was the reason, so I thought I deserved the beatings. That was my mentality as a six year old.

As I grew older, the episodes became more violent and serious.

I would have random hallucinations in public when I was with my mom and even at school or at home, I'd see shadows and hear voices.

These voices have never left me. They're always here, telling me to do things I don't want to do or continuously criticising me.

My teachers noticed how sick I was and that's when they called the social services on my mother. Not only wasn't I supposed to be in a public school but my attire was deplorable.

I wore dirty torn clothes and my hair was a mess. I barely had anything to eat at school and I was always tired because of the lack of care and sleep I had.

Whenever I had an episode, heard voices or saw shadows and I got scared, I used to wake my mom up.

She got angry and then forced me to stay awake so they would disappear. I don't know where she read that it would work because it never did. It would only get worse.

When I was nine, social services finally did their job and I was placed into a mental institution for children under the age of eighteen.

I was a very quiet child. I didn't speak to anyone because I was scared to let people in. I had never known love or affection and nobody had ever cared about me so I closed off.

That wasn't until I met Miranda.

She's my girl.

Miranda was a therapist at the institution I was in. She approached me in such a gentle way that just made me want to open to her so I did. It was the best decision I had ever made in my life.

When I was eleven, I was placed in a host family. Miranda thought that it was time since I had learned how to control my episodes and my illness was slowly becoming bearable.

It was a huge step for me because it meant that I had to socialise with strangers. In that household, everyone already knew each other. My host parents had adopted them all. I was the new kid and it was awful.

Julian, my big brother, had a friend that would come over regularly. His name was Noah.

Noah was the type of guy that everyone loved. He was talkative, kind, funny and very handsome. That didn't go unnoticed by me, of course.

He was nineteen and I was eleven but that didn't matter to me. He became my first crush.

When Noah noticed me for the first time, he was very nice and patient with me. He already had a good relationship with the whole family but he didn't know me yet.

As time went by, we got really close. He treated me like his little sister and I loved it. My host family tried to get close to me but for some reason, I only accepted Noah.

He was the first person to genuinely care about me and give me the attention I needed as a child. It felt different from everything I had ever known because it wasn't like the professional type of help I was receiving, but it was just a regular person caring about a broken child like me. I had never experienced that but he came and changed my life.

I loved Noah, as in I was in love with him. It's going to sound crazy, I know, but when you're a child who comes from a broken home and you feel love for the first time from that one person, it just stays printed into your soul.

One night, Julian and Noah snuck out with my dad's car. Neither one of them had a driver's license but they didn't seem to care.

They drove around, Noah being the driver, and had fun but not for long.

On that cold September night, my heart shattered in a million pieces when I discovered that they had had an accident.

Noah's body got ejected from the car and flew against a tree, his head first. He died instantly.

I cried my liver out that day. I realised that my only source of love and  happiness was gone. I was never going to see that pretty face and warm smile again and it broke me to the deepest core of my heart.

Throughout the years, I kind of forgot his existence. I guess that my illness plays a role in this. Whenever I do think about him though, it hurts and I cry.

Thanks to Noah I managed to open up a little bit more to my family. I guess that Julian noticed how much I loved Noah and since they were best friends, we held that same love for him. Although, mine was quite different but he didn't need to know that.

Julian knew that he would never forgive himself for what he did because he felt like he had killed Noah.

I understood him and stood by him when he didn't feel well which caused us to get closer to each other. Then I got to know Lara, his twin sister, and we became friends before becoming sisters.

My relationships with Levi, Isaac and Georgina evolved over the years and now I consider them all as my siblings.

Even Davina and Dimitri quickly became mom and dad.

I'm still kind of triggered by some traumas and I'm not really okay but I'm alive and that's already a big thing for me.

If I didn't have God or my family, I don't think I'd be here to be honest.

I hope you liked it and now let's get to the real story!!

(19/12/2023)