Chapter 1
Tragedies


The whispers followed me like the wind as I felt hollow inside. It was as though a darkness had engulfed me tightly, wrapping me in something horridly evil, something that wouldn’t let go without a tiresome fight over this secret. My secret – one which I would be unable to keep even in the most desperate of situations – weighed heavily on my sagging shoulders. Of course no one knew it yet, I had only found out hours ago. Still, it felt as if – somehow – everyone did.
When I’d found out, I hadn't known how to react; it had all come as a shock to me. I still didn't...

I wish the steps I took down this small hall would have reached on forever. Nothing on God's green Earth could have gotten me anymore ready for what I would have to help my mother with. My dad was gone and I wished he wasn't, but he was. Funeral arrangements wouldn't repair the piece of my cuore that was missing, nothing would. All this would do was make my father's death look pretty, but dying wasn't pretty.
At the end of the hall, I stopped and stood still. I gazed at my mom sitting on the couch, rushing through papers, with a pen poised in her hand and my cuore sank. Walking over to her,...

Hot tears stung my cheeks, as I stared at myself in a mirror in the secondo floor girls’ bathroom. Had I just gone hysterical in front of the new kid? No, that would have been ridiculous. But it had happened; hadn’t it? Either way, I was surely going insane.
Turning the taps on, I threw water in my face and then dabbed it dry with a paper towel. A new wave of pain surged across my skin as I stumbled into a stall and locked myself inside. As I slid against the door, domande popped up in my head. How could this possibly be me?
As I pondered these thoughts of mine, the streams of tears turned...

The cold February winds nipped at my nose, bitterly, chilling me to the bone. My legs were close to the point of total numbness because I had stupidly made the mistake of choosing to wear to school the gonna I had gotten for Christmas, although it wasn’t like I had a choice in the matter, all my pants were dirty.
Cold, amaro weather around this time of anno – especially January and February – came with living in Canada. Sometimes I really hated how chillingly numbing the weather could get this time of year, around here. Other times I understood how cold, empty and amaro someplace, or...

Chapter Two
Funeral Arrangements

I wish the steps I took down this small hall would have reached on forever. Nothing on God's green Earth could have gotten me anymore ready for what I would have to help my mother with. My dad was gone and I wished he wasn't, but he was. Funeral arrangements wouldn't repair the piece of my cuore that was missing, nothing would. All this would do was make my father's death look pretty, but dying wasn't pretty.
At the end of the hall, I stopped and stood still. I gazed at my mom sitting on the couch, rushing through papers, with a pen poised in her hand and my...