Tell me that I'm living, and I'll tell you that I'm fine!
Tell me that I'm dying and I'll say, just get in line...
The music blared away in the corner, Anna flopped onto her bed with her legs in the air. She wanted to get out of the house, but there was no way her parents were going to let her. She was grounded. Grounded, grounded, grounded ... and for no good reason, either! It was getting irritating, to say the least.
"You're just out of order!" she'd yelled, when they pronounced their deadly sentence. For a sixteen-year-old with an active social life it seemed like the worst punishment ever. "You're being sooo annoying. I can't believe you sometimes..."
"Just go to your room." They weren't taking any nonsense. "Anna, we're warning you. Go to your room, before we drag you there by your hair." They wouldn't really, she knew that. Her parents did love her, even if they had a funny way of showing it sometimes, and they wouldn't hurt her. Would they?
"I don't believe you," she said again, but went. Once there, she had nothing to do but sit and stare at the wall.
It was that evening that they finally told her the truth. At the time, they'd been told that it was best if she grew up with the knowledge of who and what she was, yet it didn't seem right to tell a little child. Now she was sixteen and it was sure to be traumatic ... but there was nothing for it. They had to tell her some time, right?
Anna knew nothing of this, however, and was perfectly happy being miserable in her room, kicking the wall with her heels. She thought nothing of family, nothing of love, nothing of lies ... only of friends and shopping and her life. That was about to end.