How in the hell did I end up here?

You used to wrap yourself in fairytales and dreams, like a soft comforting blanket. But it was the cold... you loved the rain, the feeling of it upon your soft reddened cheek's, cooling them softly.

Sharp shivers as you uncovered the truth of reality... There is no Prince Charming to save you from your life, but if he was real and could save you... You'd tell him to go to hell, but it just so happens that you're already there.

You needed to be saved from the unfairness of everything. When would he come? The answer was a cruel shrug in a hundred thousand moments, the sneer on your fathers face when he called you those names that are ingrained into your memory...

Fat cow Gay boy Slut Fairy Whore Faggot Waste of space

All of these names hurt but the one that hurt the most is... I wish you were never born.

That one hurt like a ton of bricks, and that diminished you even more. And then when you thought life couldn't possibly get any worse... Your twin sister, your everything, dies from leukemia.

The last person I talked to was her, and I'll be damned if I let myself trust another person again.

Let's say you can live like this, getting the absolute crap beaten out of you just because your sister died, your mom left when you were a baby, and you're gay.

Didn't you ask for it? Didn't you ask for it? Didn't you ask for it? Didn't you ask for it?

No, I never thought this would happen when I told him I was gay when I was eight. My sister died two years later and I haven't spoken a word to my father since I told him I was gay.

Let's just say that beating got me to shut up for the rest of my life. I can still almost feel how his fists and boots felt against my small body.

My name is Birch Bluebelle Hastings and I'm being sent to Rosewood Institution to "cure" my gayness. Good freaking luck with that. I plan on escaping on my first opportunity, getting a bus ticket out of this hellhole and potentially finding a place for me to hide out until I turn eighteen and can disappear for forever.

God, I hate my life.