My Extraordinary Life

A Story by t&l_louise

This is about a girl name Charlotte who can't get her life right.

My names Charlotte Tubron and this is my extraordinary life as a 14 year old girl with brown hair and bright blue eyes.

My life started on the 17th of December in the year of 1997. That was the year my Grandfather passed away. I didn’t get to meet him. A few years later, I was 3. Everything changed then when my whole family, Mum, Dad, everyone and everything was burnt down in the house fire, started by a group of arsonist’s. I was on the outside. And from then on, it was never the same. My whole life changed. I got nightmares at the age of 3 and a half. At 4, I got daymares as well. My Grandmother suggested counciling, but it wasn’t necessary. It was never going to stop.

At 5, I started school. It didn’t help. I got day and nightmares. I re-lived the experience. One day, I started drawing my imagination on paper. It was like life, and I loved it. My Gran got me private lessons, but I hated it, I wanted to draw what I wanted, not what someone else wanted me to draw. At 6, I started counciling. It was horrible. I wanted to run away and cry, forever. But I couldn’t. They told me to write. So, I wrote. I wrote everything. About my parents, my school, my Gran, and it hang there. So my hobby was to write and draw. What else? Have night and day mares?

At the age of 7, I started having random epilepsy fits. I fell to the ground and all the other kids did was laugh at me. It happened nearly everyday and if I was lucky enough, it happened twice a day some days. It was horrid. I went to the hospital and they hadn’t seen anything like it. I wasn’t normal, I was strange, like a martian on earth. Like mixing ballet with soccer. I just wasn’t right. At 8, my Gran pulled me out of school. I stayed home. But I was bored. So I ran away, everyday.

At 9, my life sucked even more. I made a friend , but she left. It didn’t last. 10, I nearly died. my Gran was nearly going to put me up for adoption, but I changed her mind. I didn’t give her much trouble anyway.

When I was 10, it was all the same. Nothing different. 11. I went back to school, but again it didn’t help. It just dragged the days to make them longer.

At 12, I started counciling again. My class kept laughing at me, but the fits started calming down a lot. I sat in my tree all day and watched all the little birds fly by. It helped to calm me. I helped me control my breathing. On my 13th birthday, my Gran got me a whole room full of artist equipment. Paints, books, pencils. It was all I needed.

At 14, my life started getting worse again. I started getting the fits again, I felt like i wanted to die and i continued getting day and nightmares. It was uncontrollable. It happened. I couldn’t help it. Thats when my Gran couldn’t handle it anymore. She passed away in her sleep a few months ago and from then on, I have been alone my whole life.