Emma

But there was nothing wrong with me.

You're a monster, Emma.

I hid behind the door, shaking as I sat against the cold wall. The voices were at it again. The only difference between this time and last is this time they were making me relive what I had done. I was just trying to get them to stop their taunting words. I just wanted them to see me for me. That backfired...a lot.

I was once a normal girl with a normal family and a normal life - until my father died. I witnessed it all. Her hands covered in his blood. The weapon of choice shaking between her palm and fingers. Her brown eyes wide with fear. She kept asking herself, "What have I done? What have I done?"

She assumed I'd be asleep for a nap at the age of seven. I wasn't. I was hiding under the dining room table, watching their every move, hearing their every word. "You're just a low-down, no-good drunk!" That's what she said to him every day he'd come home.

"I'm sorry," he'd whisper. It was never good enough, and apparently she was tired of the apology because she killed him. I watched my mother kill my father. Fucked up, huh?

I was thrown into a foster home every year. Each home had a different problem. My first home was a bunch of drunks, my second a bunch of bums, and so forth and so on. I finally lied about my age when I was sixteen and stated I was eighteen and was eligible to provide for myself. I met a boy, fell in love, lost my virginity, and kept him around. I was supposed to marry that boy. Until he met her.

She was the life of the party. I hated her. She and her friends weren't anything but a bunch of strippers. She was the epitome of home-wreckers. She and her friends taunted me, saying I was nothing but a rebound girl, whatever the hell that meant. They called me a lesbian, which I had no problem with. I was put in a foster home before I left, and the parents were lesbians. They were the best parents I ever had.

I just didn't like being taunted, followed, like that. So I ended it. I ended them. But I got caught the next day. I should've showered before I fell asleep. I was handcuffed, sentenced, and thrown into a mental health institution. But there was nothing wrong with me.