Prologue

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Prologue:The Worst  Day Of My Life

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Prologue:
The Worst Day Of My Life

Oftentimes, people are asked to recount the worst day or days of their lives. For me, the worst day of my life was when I was a few weeks shy of turning thirteen. That was the day everything changed, and it hasn't been the same since. Never had I expected to learn so much from that incident, nor had I expected just how much it would impact me over time...

Life is difficult—we all know that, but sometimes, it can just be so damn cruel. People are also cruel. Driven blindly by discernment and their own selfish needs. People can be so simple-minded and judgmental, but they can't see the wrong in any of their actions. No one ever understands.

Yet, somehow, family never disappoints.

Family, always understanding, always willing. They are the people who truly care for and love you, the people who'll always be there for you when others won't, and the sort of support you'll achieve just by being their presence.

Sometimes, even the slightest touch or reassuring squeeze can make you feel comforted and heartened. They make you feel as if, somehow, things will end up just fine in the end. Though, there are times when even your family can't help you or comfort you. They won't be able to save you from the harsher moments of life. They'll not be able to protect you. They are also known as the non-savable. That's the test. That's what the truth is, and that's what I've learned after the traumatic event two years ago.

My friends and I were sharing this ugly brown-coloured tent together. It wasn't ideally how I would like to spend my free time. I wanted the real thing. I longed for the sound of insects croaking away in the background, the smoke from a campfire, and the overwhelming smell of earthy soil and grass. Instead, the room we were "camping" in reeked of dirty mop water. Lovely. Despite this, Amber and Emma, my two insistent and passionate friends whom I'd known since primary school, always knew how to make a gloomy Friday better. The three of us didn't have a lot in common, but we made our friendship work. I didn't understand how we hadn't drifted apart over all those years, but I was glad we hadn't.

How were we different, you ask? For starters, I wasn't that interesting to be around. I was the normal kid that did the normal kid stuff. With two normal older siblings—well, one was normal, the other I can't even explain—and a beautiful, strong, loving mother. Compared to them, and especially compared to Amber, I'd always been different.

"Remember that time in the Christmas concert in Oaks primary when we had to do mini solos?" Emma asked while bopping her head slightly in Ambers direction.

"Oh yeah! Of course I do! She was really great."

In the last year of primary school, she stood on the school stage singing her heart out. I remembered clearly how she sang with so much confidence, unlike my pathetic-self. As soon as it was my turn, I froze and my eyes were wide like a door.

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