Umbrella Academy Imagines

Confessions of number 7. Pt.1

Vanya Hargreeves

Description: I feel as though I should go into description or into a description of how I think Vanya felt as a child and teen without knowing her powers within a powerful household. Extremely angsty.

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Date: 16th March 1999

I don't know how to start this really. There's a whirlwind of emotions that I feel just thinking about this. It's hard. It's so hard just to express myself on one paper when I want to write a whole novel.

I feel so trapped in this place. I look at the others and I feel minuscule just by standing straight. My mind constantly compares me to them even when I don't want to. It makes me want to hate myself more than I already do which ultimately makes me want to hate them. It makes me want to explode into fits of anger at them for being different. I don't want to be different. I want to be like them. I want to fit in. I want to enjoy the task of running around like a fool fighting bad guys. But I can't. Because I'm trapped. I'm in a small box for the others to look at like I'm some sort of weird spectacle for them. I want to lash out at them. I want to figure out why I'm like this. Why I'm weak.

But I love them too much to do that. I love them all with all my heart. I could never see myself hate them just because they have powers but it really does hit a nerve in me when They become boastful. Especially Luther and Diego. I hate it when they pick on me for being 'normal'. I know Allison feels bad when she sees them picking on me but she never does anything. The only people who do anything to help me is Klaus, Ben and Five. At least they know their ego's. The rest are too far up their own asses to come down from their high horses. I know it's a nasty thing to say to the people I live with and love but they really do get to me.

I do feel bad for them in some ways. Father treats them like experiments. Always wired up at night. Full bodily and power training in the morning. They're always so exhausted when I ask them if they want to play or just sit around together. They snap at me often when I do ask. But I don't blame them for it. Father puts them through so much strain. It must hurt them in some way. I remember asking if Allison and Luther could listen to me playing the Violin. Luther has pushed me to the ground and walked away whilst Allison stood and told me off for asking when I knew they were exhausted and wanted sleep. After that I never asked. They'd some time ask me to play and I would. Just so I could feel somewhat apart of this family.

It really does lighten my head writing this. Writing out how I feel. I should do it often. My eyes burn from all the crying I've been doing whilst writing this. It's like a big flood of emotions that I'm spilling onto this paper or now two pieces of paper. I feel like a big baby writing this and crying. I'm soaking the sheets so I think I should stop here for now.

Maybe I'll carry on with this and write a book? Who knows...

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A/n

I'm Vanya :(