In the beginning I was a sweet little four year old girl playing around with my two older sisters, Stephani and Tianah, while my parents were working away at their jobs (my mum working as a waitress in a Thai restaurant and my dad working as a self employed web designer in his home office), when my oldest sister (Tianah) decided to make a cushion bridge leading from the couch to the coffee table. Being the little shit she is, she decided to make me test it out, so, being the stupid little push over I was, I did. Biggest mistake of my life, it's funny how the smallest things can change a persons whole life and perspective on the earth and themselves. The cushion bridge collapsed beneath me, I fell and hit my head on the coffee table. I don't really remember much after that, I remember there being a lot of blood and me laying on the floor of the kitchen, one of my sisters (Stephani) held a cloth to the gushing split on my forehead, while Tianah screamed for help. I was rushed to hospital. Not to long afterwards my parents got a divorce. I didn't think anything of it at first, I thought they just (as they all say) "weren't in love anymore" but as I got older and less deluded by my parents lies, I began to believe it was my fault. If I had never attempted to walk across that faulty cushion bridge and hit my head that night, my parents would still be happily married. I brought it up once a few years later while I was laying in Stephani's bottom bunk and before I could finish my sentence she said "it wasn't your fault" and instantly I knew, it was my fault. I know she said it wasn't but she knew what I was getting at, so obviously she had considered it. I still think back to that tragic night sometimes and cry myself to sleep, clutching a photo of my parents between my finger tips. If only that blow to the head had killed me, but anyway nine years later and I still have that God forsaken scar, smack bang in the centre of my forehead, constantly reminding me of what a fuck up I am.
