My name is Ivy, Ivy Miere, and sometimes I wish that I were dead.
My parents had died when I was young. I was shuffled from foster home to foster home, no one ever seemed to care. Then my current foster dad, Sam took me in. He was kind, letting me have independence, and I slowly opened up.
That is, until I began attending the local middle school. La Push Middle School (I know, clever title :), was a living hell for me. Paul and his groupies, Jared, and Jacob teased me relentlessly from day one. I shut down, completely. I dyed my hair black, instead of it's usual red, which made me look even paler than I already was. I had no friends and often sat in the back of class, listening to my iPod, or chipping away the black nail polish that always decorated my nails. I wore large sweatshirts that covered my small frame, and converse, or combat boots. I was called a slut and a whore, which just downgraded my self confidence even more. And at the center of it all, was Paul.
He was the one who had started it all, and I hated him. I hated him so much that I wish that he would never have been born, that I could hurt him in some way, to pay back for all of the times that he had hurt me. But I did nothing, I couldn't.
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