When I was a girl, I thought the world was a paradise. The people were angels that share the beautiful light of God.

 

My family was my best friend. My mother and my siblings poured their undying love to my empty jar of hearts. It tasted sweet like McDonald’s ice-cream and warm like the crackling fire in the fireplace. It envelopes me like a blanket, soothing me from the chills of sadness. They bandaged my wounds when I fall, and calm me down when the devil whispers.

 

I was just a little girl, blinded by my innocence. I never understood why a man raised his voice at his mother. The crash and screams scared me to silence. Why is mom crying behind the bedroom door?

 

I was only 13 years old. Yet, the soles of my feet bled from the shattered pieces of the plates and bowls he threw. Or were those fragments of my heart?

 

My biggest regret in life is leaving that little girl behind. She was hurt but I don’t want to see her in pain anymore. I don’t want her to see the traitors she used to call her family. The love her siblings gave her. It was nothing more than a senseless joke. Who was she to them other than a stranger that was adopted into the family? Her achievements were hollow but not her failures. She was nothing more than an antisocial person.

 

When I was a girl, I thought the world was a paradise. The people were angels that share the beautiful light of God.

 

When in reality, it was nothing more than just a facade.