I…Natasha, and this is the story of how I was her.

I never really understood biology (always been a numbers person) differential equations, logarithms, vectors… it was easy as pi. Biology was harder. Apparently genetics shape us. Genetics they say come from our parents. Our parents. There to nurture and care for us. Or so we're led to believe, according to some book or the other. I'm not entirely sure. Apparently we're spitting images of the aforementioned parents. Often that transpires in looks, intelligence, or behaviour. Behaviour. Funny isn't that when you do something praiseworthy, each parent is more than happy to claim you got it from them, or their side. But as soon you put a foot wrong then it's "my side never behaved like that." Or in my case… in my case "Just like your mother." Four words. An adjective, a verb, a pronoun and The noun. Four simple words. Yet they sting like hell.

I can't really remember much about my childhood. Except for the usual. The one birthday where my dad went all out to make everything pink, just the way I liked it. To get the pink pony, the pink ice-cream cake, the pink dress complete with pink shoes. Funny really, when all I wanted was to be able to see someone. I never mentioned this to him. It wasn't that I was scared. I'm never scared. There's no need to be. Showing fear is a weakness. Showing weakness is stupidity, and stupidity, well that's just dumb. See a circular argument with the moral of the story being…I was more concerned with upsetting him. He said it was just me and him. In fact I still remember his exact words "just you and me, kiddo, just you and me." And he was right it was just me and him. For a long time.

At first it didn't bother me, it was kind of cool. I got everything I ever wanted, whether I needed it or not. Had no siblings to share him with. No annoying younger sister to ruin all my clothes and wreck my makeup. No older siblings forever telling me what to do. It was bliss. Or so I thought. When we moved I didn't really care, never had many friends. Not because I couldn't get them or make them. No. See everyone wants to be my friend. The hottest girl in the school. In every school was me. I just didn't really have friends because…I didn't need them. Why care for somebody when, when it comes to the crunch they're going to stab you in the back and then not have the decency to come clean.

I always get what I want. Always. Sometimes it comes easily, batting of the eyelash, a few tears, sometimes a bit of flesh (well flaunt it if you've got it I say) but sometimes it takes a lot more work. Sometimes it's just not easy. Sometimes you have to play dirty. Sometimes you just have to. Sometimes you have no other option. Sometimes it's just not fair. Well tough. Life isn't fair. I've known that for a long time. That's all I'm doing fighting for what is rightfully mine. Fighting for what has always been mine. Fighting for what I love. In some fair, unprejudiced world, what I'm doing may be wrong. But this isn't a fair world. Nope I believe it was Darwin who put it correctly; it's the "survival of the fittest." That's what I'm doing. Surviving.

Well what do you know, it turns out I'm not so bad at biology. I'm surviving, in a world in which only the fittest survive. By logic I'm the fittest. Therefore I'll survive. No genetics, just me. Because had genetics come into this, then there would have been no me. Someone once told me "do whatever it takes to survive." I'm merely following that advice.

If only she had too.

I Natasha and this is the story of how I was once her.