That was the story I got each year when I asked my family. The story sounds amazing but still too fake, right... That's what I thought.
It's the 2nd of October, today. The day she died. And it was all of a sudden our fault. This story made us the rotten family-- the family with no hearts but we got used to it. I mean if you live with a heavy dead body on your shoulders always telling you that your family is horrible and it's a matter of time before they kill you.
People were scared of us. I only had two friends who swore to never leave no matter my circumstances or family background. The only true friends that never called me crazy. I don't understand why I had to suffer... Or why they to suffer...
What happened, happened a long time ago--even before I was born. Maybe people think that the evil runs in the family...
I feel hurt when I think of this as to why I had to be involved. Maybe it's because I was born into this family of cold blood and white lies
I just hate it...
A/N
I'M CURRENTLY WRITING A SET OF POETRY BOOKS. PLEASE COMMENT ON WHAT I SHOULD CALL THE FIRST BOOK. AND AS ALWAYS PLEASE VOTE
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YOU ARE READING
The devils inside
Mystery / ThrillerDiana had been struggling with her identity and sense of place since she was young, but she had done some digging up on her families whereabouts - and it turned out to not be what she was hoping for. Too deep in this world of torture and murder, she...
