My life

Talking about what it's truly like inside her.

Lonely would be a key word in my life, but one thing I never am is fake, I always stick to being myself no matter the circumstances. Now let me tell you I don’t live in a rundown house or have abusive parents, nothing that would really make you gasp in surprise or feel terribly sorry for me. You could say I was just an ordinary girl, seeing things most did not, wearing a smile everyone thought was happy, never realizing how much pain I am truly in. You could stay I have a temper, or you could say I am passionate about the things I say and do.

The real me wasn’t happy like everyone thought, I was lonely, broken, dark and twisted teenage girl. To be honest I never understood how no one saw the real me, they saw…you could say a fake me but one I never created. I would know if they saw the pain in me, my real emotions, reading people was one of my talents, I could easily tell what people are feeling, if I couldn’t once I saw their eyes it all becomes clear.

Unlike most girls I lived in reality, I did not day dream nor fantasize about what it would be like if creatures of the night or other beings were real nor did I care. Taking things for granted was not something I did, I know that the saying you don’t know what you have until you lose it is true so I take nothing for granted.

Family is a strange thing, you can’t pick them, and you can’t help but love them even if it’s an insignificant part of your heart. Mine is maybe a common one, parents are divorced, dad cheated with many w****s and never hid it, work crazed mom knew yet put up with it for years always using the excuse it was for my own good that it was necessary to have parents that are together, never admitting she loved him. Why would I want to have them together when they weren’t happy? All I ever heard from their room was yelling crude words or the moans from unknown women.

I can’t say it only happened up until a certain age that something caused it. No, that isn’t the case, in reality I don’t even know the reason, and there was never a time that they weren’t like that. Sometimes I begin to think maybe I was the cause, maybe I was one of those children who were unexpected, on they weren’t ready for. Mother was always obsessed with her work, dad always sex crazed. That was just two simple facts. Dinner was lonely, although I learned to cook on my own, saving some in the fridge for them trying to make it easier. Or maybe I’m trying to make it seem like they will just come home late.

Now that I think about it I never really saw my father unless I woke up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water and watched as he stumbled in the house obviously drunk and passed out on the couch. Every time that occurred I would place a blanket over his form and walk back up to my room falling asleep like nothing happened.

I can’t ever complain about my life to a living soul, even if I feel like this, even if I do suicidal things because in this world there are people who have it much harder than I do. There are people out there who are starved, beat, so trapped in the dark drugs and beer is their escape. Out in this world there are still children slaves. So how can I complain about my petty thoughts and feelings when all those things are happening in this pathetic world? I simply can’t, or in better words wont. I tell people how it is, I speak my mind, I don’t try to start more drama or get into it but if no one will stand up for what is right, for the people who don’t yet have the courage to then who will?

Holidays are just like any other day, gifts are placed around the house, never wrapped but could easily tell it was for me. Even on holidays I would receive gifts, although I knew it wasn’t out of love, I could pretend they were but what good would that do lying to me? I couldn’t do that, harsh reality in my eyes were much better than a fake one. I knew the gifts spread carelessly around the house were gifts meant to give them peace of mind. That even though they were never around those gifts would be enough. But gifts could not hold you, they couldn’t give you the love you needed, they couldn’t even talk to you.

Friends I know are something you should cherish because friends are considered non blood related family. Or simply people who are there for you when things get rough. Although I have no friends I could consider family, I have many people that know my name, that call out to me or talk to me in class. Why would I want to cherish a friend who does not want to get to know me, who only wishes to talk about themselves or brag about a silly thing they have accomplished or talk about the last hot guy the screwed?

Nice is something you could say I am, most who have to listen to my harsh words when I speak or stand up for someone would not think of that word to describe me. But, rather than being a person who follows the popular crowed, someone who has no mind of their own or simply hasn’t found the courage yet to speak what they think I would rather be who I am. My dark side is something that will always be with me, yet I sometimes think what if the dark side wasn’t my main side anymore if things would be better, if I would feel. I cannot say I am happy with the style of life or the path I have created yet I make no move to change it or even try. Maybe I need a shove? Or words? Or those special someone’s people insist on dreaming of, a prince or knight in shining armor.

I may not know everyone’s name but I know how everyone is at this school I know the intentions they have or who I should keep my distance from even if I have to run down the halls causing a scene.

But enough of this petty stuff, I suppose you would want info that isn’t so depressing right? Well on a bright note or at least a note that doesn’t involve sex, parties and drugs, I have learned we have Two new kids in town supposedly my age, how I learned this was simply by gossip and the fact he is a crossed the street from me.

The age I am not sure is true but if so they would be 16 like me. I heard they are twins, a boy and girl, yet I have only seen the male. You could say he was tall, maybe standing at about 6’2, were as I only stood at 5’1. Brown hair with bangs that fell into his eyes, back of his hair spiked up, different from my brown ringlets that cascaded to my slim yet curvy waist. Bright mismatched eye’s never made eye contact with his light blue eyes that reminded me of a cloudless sky. I’m sure the girls would go crazy over his body, he was indeed in shape yet not over the top, you could see toned muscles under his shirts, strong legs yet he wasn’t the buff type. He would for sure het attention.

You could definitely say I wasn’t fond of attention, ever though I create a lot due to my bluntness, but the one thing I never liked was the attention my eye’s got me. Some would stare, not saying anything while others would tell me they were hideous and unnatural. I was never the little girl to cry over silly things like my hair or how dirty I got if I fell, yet my eye’s always seemed to strike a nerve when I would get picked on. So I simply wear hazel contacts. The other non-hazel eye is a light icy blue, bordering between silver and white.

I was skinny, most likely to skinny for my own good considering you could see my ribs. Maybe it was part of my suicidal side keeping me from eating much. His outfits from what I could tell were of many styles, he was being himself, he from what I can tell does not believe in the labels people insist on giving. Skinny jeans of many colors, only long sleeved shirts also consisting of many colors as well as vans and convers is what my wardrobe consisted of, I only wore long sleeved shirts, if by chance my parents got me short sleeved ones I would wear a jacket. The cravings on my body I refuse to let people see.

Mother of course didn’t know, since the divorce was finalized she spends all her time at work, dad moved out and I haven’t see him in three years although I can’t say that I mind when you can’t miss something you never really had.

Tomorrow would be the start of a new week, as well as a new kids, or well new teenagers. It wouldn’t be a guess to say tomorrow would be interesting.

My names Sorella Damon La and this is my life.

 

Author's Note

(This chapter has been re-done) Ignore any errors unless they take away from the story then please tell me other then that please enjoy and comment I take critisism and opinions seriously and will not get upset at you so please be honest.
Thanks you
*SB*

Reviews

[Deviant Works]

To be honest, I will follow this story until finished. Sorella has a personality and a history that many teenagers and adults can relate with. She is dark, yet she doesn't pity herself, she has a clear view of the world around her. A very likable character. A great introduction and I wait for more on the mystery twins.

[Can't bring myself to d..]

Sad, not bad at all, but sad. I enjoedthis opening, good intro to the character and some insight as to why she is the way she is. looking forward to more, hope things look up!

[Arsenic Nemesis]

I liked this a lot, really nice and very well written, I certainly look forward to more~

[+Naomi+]

YAY! U POSTED IT!!!

It hooked me onto this and i expect more soon!!!
great job :]