[COMPLETED]
"Life doesn't get easier or more forgiving, we get stronger and more resilient."
― Steve Maraboli
She has experienced more pain in her 15 years of life than many people do in their lifetimes. Her life has always been filled with pain, em...
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ARABELLA'S POV
I grew up in a broken house.
I witnessed more resentment than affection, and more hatred than love.
Rather than supporting and loving me, they ripped me apart to pieces. 'Home' was the one place that I tried to avoid the most.
Many people say how much they can't wait to go back home or how it was their safe haven, but I never understood what they meant up until now.
I had never lived in a home before. I used to live in a house that only gave me demons rather than protection.
I never imagined that my life could ever go right on track, ever since I could comprehend, I've only ever witnessed everything that I've had falling apart.
And no matter how hard I tried to defend myself from all the atrocities that came my way, there was little to nothing I could've done to truly avoid it.
But if there was one thing that I truly learned and religiously treasured from my past, it was to be grateful.
Now that I'm living with my dad and my brothers, I know what it's like to be at home. They are my safe haven, my home.
And I'm slowly learning that I can't let people make me feel that I wasn't good enough, those who truly value me will choose to stay and spend more time with me.
That the right people won't mind my worth, they'll stick with me, and that the small things they're willing to do for me will show the true value they carry in their hearts.
Anyway, today is the day when I will be meeting the rest of my family.
My nerves are escalated, thoughts are all chaotic, last night was one of those nights where I kept tossing and turning trying to get some sleep, but I couldn't sleep at all thinking about what my day has in store, wondering if they will accept me or if they'll see me as broken shell of a girl.
Trying to keep my mind at ease, I kept making up situations in my head, devising scenarios about what I would say or what I would do when they'll arrive, knowing fully well nothing of the sort would ever come true.
But it's the only way my mind tends to rest.
The sun had already come out, the soft bright light was seeping into my room through the curtains. My gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, a lingering pain in my stomach and legs.
I sighed and pushed myself out of the bed.
Dad said that they'd be home in the morning, and that we'd all eat breakfast together.
And I hadn't even realised that it was already 7:00 am, so I needed to get ready quickly.
I dashed to my closet and rummaged through the dozens of dresses and outfits in search of the perfect one.
