This isn't a normal story.
I'm not going to start by saying "Hey it's me Jo!" Or whatever.
That's not the real world.
The real world sucks.
The real world has money, depression, anxiety, abuse, and rape, and a bunch of other crappy things that can ruin your life.
Let's just say, life isn't a Disney
movie.
This is a story about me in junior year of high school. I had a boyfriend with the name of Connor. Just to let you know--he is the worst person in the world.
Where should I begin?
Let's start at the very beginning of junior year...
I was new to the school and knew no one, but you need to hear the background story first. We had lived in New York my whole life. Life was pretty good. You know, just the occasional friend drama that you laugh at now. Everything was going well, until about three years ago.
My mom was diagnosed with cholangiocarcinoma. Which is a really long way and pretentious way of saying liver cancer. Despite, going in and out of hospitals and chemo constantly, she later died.
My dad couldn't function, I suppose. After she left us, he just wasn't quite...right.
I guess this affected his concentration and working habits, and he was laid off. He didn't know what to do and began to cope using the sweet kisses of liquor bottles. He battled with alcoholism and continues to. Well, I say battles but he really doesn't give a crap.
Let me ask you something. When a weak middle aged man has lost everything and is always angry and drunk out of his mind, how do you think he gets that anger out?
Maybe exercising? Maybe talking to a therapist? Maybe pursuing something creative?
Nope.
He will beat the crap out of whatever he comes across. And, of course, that's always me. Some luck, huh?
I suppose that you could say that that is partially why I hate my life, but, my friend, we are only just beginning this story.
So stay tuned.
