"Coming Kelly!" I shouted. I was still a bit drowsy considering I had been ripped out of bed. I sluggishly walked down the stairs. I was so sick of having that dream. The doctors said it would go away. They really thought that the pain from that day was just going to disappear? It was never going to go away. I knew that. The doctors try and tell me that everything would be ok. But why? I've had to deal with 2 years of hell. I've lost all faith in "ok". Life would never be ok.
I walked into the kitchen. Kelly, Bill, and Nadine were all sitting at the table snacking on eggs and bacon. There were only three plates, and all were occupied by my "family". "Kelly, is there any left for me?" I asked. Kelly shot back " Brylee, first of all, I already told you to you I am either mom or ma'am. Second, you should know better then to ask if we made any for you. We have done enough for you already. We took you in when no one else would. You expect so much. Just because your parents and brother were murdered doesn't mean you deserve more than normal kids.You spoiled brat. Learn to respect your family." "Sorry ma'am." I managed to mutter. I was such a failure. My family would be so disapointed. Kelly was right, they did take me in when no one else would. I should'nt expect food. And I woke up late. Therfore I understand not getting breakfast. I walked back into my room. It was Saturday, which meant Bill and Kelly were going to a meeting. I liked when they were gone. It gave me a chance to roam around town. Nadine was usually out with friends. So no one would be able to tell on me.
Later that night...
Finally! Kelly and Bill left, Nadine was going to a party. I was home alone. Sweet peace and quiet. I decided to check my phone. I pressed the unlock button. There were 15 new texts, all from numbers I didn't know. I read them. All of them. Every single text was about me. How ugly, fat, dumb, and lazy I was. I knew I was fat. I was 5'4 and 90 pounds. I was working on that though. I am planning on going anorexic. That way I wouldn't have to pester Kelly about food and I would be nice and skinny. I knew I was ugly too. Nadine made sure to remind me everyday. I was used to these types of insults. But as I was about to put my phone away I got another text from an unfamiliar number. It read:" you whore, your family deserved to die. you should have died too. I hope you know no one cares, no one will ever care. Filthy bitch." That one just about killed me. Whenever anyone mentions my family, it's like a punch to my face. My family didn't deserve to die. It was me who deserved to die. I ran into the bathroom. I grabbed my razor and slipped to the tile floor. I pulled up my sleeve and looked at my wrist. There were still a few fresh cuts, but most were now just scars. I found a place that wasn't too cut up. I popped out a blade. I pushed it into my skin. I felt as the blood seeped from within me to the air. It made my arm go numb. "Oh how I've missed this.." I whispered. I loved cutting. It was the only pain in life I could control. And I would have a perminate reminder of how horrible I was to my family. I should have died, not them. We never found who stabbed them and then set my house on fire. But I deserved to be in that house. I knew whoever did it didn't want to hurt me, but why? Rene was my brother. He wanted to be a singer. He could have been famous, too. He was so good. I did nothing. I wasn't athletic, hardworking, nothing. I was just a typical happy teenager. I guess whoever killed my family killed me a little too, they took away my innocence. I cut a few more times, gazing into the glorious red liquid flowing from my wrist. I decided I better quit before Nadine got home. I wiped up the blood and put on my braclets with One Direction's names on them. At least there was one thing that gave me a little hope. One Direction.
