BTS 8th Member
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Eli is a mistreated 14 year old, born into a family who never wanted her. Her mother, Elizabeth, had her by mistake and she is now stuck as her personal servant, even as she is her daughter.
When past secrets of Elizabeth come o...
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Can we just talk about how life can suck?
You know the whole saying when life throws you lemons make lemonade? Well life only throws me rocks, no not rocks, boulders. Big boulders that pin me down until I cannot breathe.
I hate feeling sorry for myself though, there are so many people out there in the world that have it worse than me. I have a roof over my head, food to eat, and clothes on my body. I am lucky to have what I do have.
But even with a roof and food, I still sometimes think of those perfect lives on Tv, the ones with lots of friends, big families that care for eachother, loads of money to spend on stuff they don't need. I wish I could have that. I wish I had the family of safety, one that would do anything for me.. That loves me.
Instead I have-
"Eli Rose!" My mother screams and I sigh, standing up.
Instead I have a life that throws me rocks.
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I pulled open the small closet I called my room. Taped up on the wall were the only three pictures of me you will find in this house. One of me and my best friends Zane and Tessa, another of my and my twin siblings, and another a baby picture of me. My parents were cradling me, my mother actually smiling. This closet was the only thing of my own in this whole house, the only thing I had to myself... Well I shared it with the broom but I didn't count that.
"Yes Mother?" I called out walking down the stairs to the smell of something burning. For such a big house you would think my mom, if you could call her that, would give me a room. Something with a bed, or even a pillow, but no she gave me a closet. I walked into the kitchen and smoke clouded my vision, it was one second away from the fire alarms going off.
"She tried to make eggs," My dad said, his sharp blue eyes following my hands as I rubbed my neck that ached. I looked over at my mom who stood over the sink, a crazed look in her eyes as she sipped her coffee. In the skillet on the stove were just clumps of black, the smoke just collecting in the air.
I quickly grabbed the skillet off the burner and poured the burned eggs into the trash. She didn't even try to make them correctly. My mom pushed past me and dumped the last of her coffee in the sink and pointed to the dishwasher.
"Do this before you take the twins to school."
I watched her as she walked out, nothing else said. No 'have a nice day' no kiss on the forehead. Nothing but another chore on top of the ten others I already have. I gave a look to my father who seemed sorry. He always seemed sorry but I doubt he ever was. If he was sorry he would do something about the way I was treated.
