I was kicked around like trash on the streets. I was the book that nobody could understand or read, but without a care, they were quick to rip out the pages. I screamed for attention, but time after time, I was ignored. Nobody noticed me, so I made myself at home in my own shadow. They say there's light at the end of the tunnel -- I searched and searched for it, but it could never be found. Therefore, I lost hope as I hid in the shade and endured what seemed like everlasting pain. The little hope I did have was snatched from my arms. My baby brother was my life, and they took my glimpse of hope away. Home. Is that a word? Maybe for a family of some kind, but for me, I never had a place to call home. I moved from place to place. Unstable foster care, fighting for my life in group homes, barely surviving in detention centers, and running away from being mistreated as I made many benches my temporary home. The only thing that I was familiar with was a black plastic bag containing my dirty rags. I am too young to know what it feels like to survive. These are the cards life has dealt me and I am not meant to win; however, I easily lose without trying. It is hard for me to find peace. I am paying for my mother's reckless actions. I am trapped in a world where the sun has died because I am unable to feel love. I am unable to dream. Sorrow is my aura, and the sadness hugs me. My eyes are closed shut by the barbed wire fence from my eyelashes as they prohibit tears from falling. I am damaged. When will the morning come? Did the sun put up a fight last night, like I do every single day? If I can survive the day, I know the sun isn't dead. One day, I will awake to a glorious sunrise. Until then, I hope my brother keeps blowing his pinwheel, and I will keep making wishes with every dandelion I come across. For now, all I know is that everything was taken from me, and the only thing I own is my name.

A little girl around the age of 3, lost all of her memories after being kicked outside of the house by her adoptive parents. She never met or remembers her biological father nor mother. All she knew was, that she needed to survive no matter what. Atleast that's what her heart said she should do. Over the time she got lll and couldn't live by herself anymore. She tried every single doors that she came by but no one took her in. One day, a blue haired boy with red pierced eyes came to rescue her from her suffering. He shared his food, drinks and even saved her from people who wanted to rob her. Even though she had nothing valuable with along her. The young boy then decided to take her in, as his own sister and promised to protect her with his life. He dragged her to his 'home' that was more comfortable than where she were. There, she met his sister that was filled with happiness to meet her new big sister. Later on, she wanted to train martial arts to keep her sister protected from any danger. She saw some bandits around the town and copied every single one of their moves and techniques. One day, they caught her. They weren't really angry with her like she expected. They were more heartwarming to see a little girl so interested in their fighting style. And so, she learned the way of stealing, fighting and living through dept and despair.

My life has been an intense journey from a little girl who was beaten down and abused into believing that she was worthless, to a woman at 43 years of age who is still desperately searching for who she truly is. I found her though. I did. And she writes like me, from inside of me. She is me. This girl that I've been in love with since time first existed, is indeed me. The way that she walks. With her hands... and how she talks? The hearts that she's captured, the souls that she has inspired. I'm now trying to be her. I've never felt that I was good enough to actually be myself!!! I always knew how pure and clear and free I was inside. But people told me otherwise, in a very cruel way. No one ever spared my feelings or thought to speak to me with kindness or love. My parents were very serious and strict people. They believed that there was only 1 way to act and inside I knew that I did NOT fit in the parameters of the behavior expected of me. And every single time I made my Step Daddy sigh or frown it felt like I knife in my heart. I was a let down. Always too loud. Always moving too much. Always too fat and always too ugly. Always too much. Unless I sat quietly. But I've always been a firecracker and all of that containment really made me want to blow off! All of what was inside of me, swirling and dividing in me. Burying the side of me that I loved the most! I was a bastard and a blasphemy. Harsh words for a girl of 3. They said them when they baptized me.

Well, what would have made me leave my one month daughter in front of the orphanage door , as her mother what pushed me to the extent of leaving her,not being there to see her first sit,crawl,walk ,hear her say her first words hoping it would be related to me, hear her call out to me when she cried, stay up at night with her singing some lullaby,read her some stories, tell her that there was a prince charming who would love her as her father loved me but where was I , staying far away from her, God knows how terrible a mother I was leaving her without even looking back. "I love you Treasure, always and forever, I'm sorry darling, I'm really sorry", I said as I cried telling myself do I really have to do this then I left without turning back hoping she would never hate me,she would remember how much I love her.

They used my vulnerability against me. They used that weapon, to make me accept their stupid idea. And I of course, accepted it, I didn't even know what they were going to do. They tugged and poked and even shoved their disgusting finger in your wound, just to see you cry. To see you change. No pitty in their eyes. They just continue. They drag you around with metal chains, hit you and turn you into a experiment. But I had enough of the tugging, the clawing, the moaning, the crying and pleading for them to stop, but simply feeding them with our pain. They turned me into something, that neither do they know what I am. Their afraid of me, of my reflexes, my strength. I killed a lot of them. They say I have a cold heart, that I don't feel nothing. That's why they call me: Death -----------------------------------------************************************--------------------------------------------- Death. A teen girl, pitch black hair, black eyes, white skin. Her height is 5'8. People are scared of her, not just because of her strength but because of they way she kills. She lived in this hell hole, where they take her to rooms. Examine. Fight. She knows she won't be able to entertain them for long. She decides to run. Soul. Brown hair as mud, blue eyes as the sky. Hight 6'2. Tanned and toned body. Death's best friend in the hell hole they're in, he's as cold as she is. But shows a bit of sympathy. Well... More than her at least. He's been there for her, ever since she entered this place of crap. They're the two most feared. As some people say, they're a perfect couple. Killing. Fighting. Cold hearted creatures. Also known as D and S. Why? That's what your going to find out, joining this adventure with D and S.

How can life move on when something that completely ruins it happens? How can an innocent child unaware of anything but happiness face the paranormal with bravery and strength? Little Alice was sleeping peacefully in the backseat of her parents' car when suddenly there was a life-altering BANG! CRASH! that changed her entire world... She doesn't like her new home. It has secrets... Deadly ones, indeed. Who are those children in the picture whose mouth seem to open and whisper something to her? And who is that naked woman with pale skin that keeps her awake with the horrible sounds of her cries and swears that no one else hears? And how does she disappear with the wind and the sound of cracking branches just like that? "Why me?", Alice kept thinking through her cries, "I don't want this". Yet who does?

Things changed. It happened slow....Then, it suddenly picked up. It took on a life of it's own. SHIT! The weaker are on top. They seem to have it all. I have become the last thing, I ever wanted. Nothing should be bought or sold. There should never be a price on existing. I'm way too old for this shit....What ever the hell this is meant to be! Will this work out? Or will I just kill her. But. I like her smile. Maybe....We'll take it from there.

***this book contains suicidal thoughts and tendencies, may not be appropriate for younger audiences*** In which she looks for the purpose of life. Lily Carter's parents died in a car crash leaving her and Laura, girl was depressed long before her parents passed away and with all the problems turning up now, Lily felt more miserable - if that's even possible. With her journey to look for life's purpose and grab the small pinch of HOPE - which is ironically her second name -, will she finally snap at the pressure and finally end it all? or will a small light lit her darkened world of grief and loneliness? * "So you know. The little goth girl who gets bullied is indeed a mess. There's this mess in her head that eats her alive everyday isn't it? What to do now Kaden? Tell the whole neighborhood and recieve an award for taking out a crazy in this world?" I spit like vomit. His eyes warmed up as I finished, "Lily. It isn't like that" "What is it then? People stopped caring... they gave up, why aren't you?" I fought my tears. "Because I feel the need to care. Did Leigh hurt you? Did she hit you?" he finally noticed the unusual redness of my cheek. I don't like the way he told me he needed to care for me. I felt like an obligation, a responsibility that he is carrying and carrying leads to getting tired and when people gets tired, they give up. I don't want them to give up on me. But they will, so it's good not to make them care for me in the first place. "I never needed anyone. I stopped needing anyone before, why start now?" I uttered the words again. Why? There is nothing to fight for. No mama. No papa. No sister to love me. No one. So why would I waste my life and the time of others to fix what is already broken - and someone who doesn't want to be fixed? If I may add. Maybe I gave up. No, scratch that. I gave up a long time ago - when my parents died, my hope and purpose went away with them.

My name is Anastasia Light and I haven't been outside in sixteen years. I've never felt the sun on my face or breathed air. It was too dangerous for me, they would have killed me for being what I am. My older brother was my only companion. The reason: I wasn't supposed to be born. In our society it was only suppose to be one child. My mother broke that law and my brother took the role of taking care of me. It was forbidden for me to go outside but that's all about to change.

Light took a deep breath and spoke in a tone that's all too familiar to her. She didn't thought she could still do it despite the years. But who is she to kid herself? The Light from five years ago and the one in the present are the same person. She just have to accept that or get drained fighting her own self. And she's choosing to ignore her thoughts then, like she always does. "I learned the hard way and I am humbled to be reminded not to beg for anyone's concern, attention or however you want to call it. We all have to face our demons on our own and that's our reality -no matter how sickening it could get." *** DISCLAIMER: this story is written in English laced with limited curse words as well as mild mature scenes so please read at your own risk. -February 14, 2022-