Introducing Myself To The World: Memoirs of a Dead Girl [A Tale of the Forgotten & And a late Birthday post!!]

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Note: Slightly modified

Hello Steemians! I call myself The High Priestess. Yes, I am a huge fan of tarot cards and divination. I just turned 31 yesterday and I am so grateful that the good Lord blessed me with another year. I was introduced to Steemit by a dear friend. This is my very first time to post here and the first time I would let anyone read my writing. Please bear with me. I'm not so good at this. Chop chop!

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She died a long time ago. I don't remember when exactly, or I wasn't paying attention, but I know for sure that she's gone. Let's just assume that she vanished piece by piece until she was no more.

I wonder what it felt like.

Sometimes I'd like to think that she had simply slipped away unnoticed, like an old photograph left to dust on a shelf. Fading peacefully in each passing day.

Her life had not been easy as she was often misunderstood. No one even looked for her when she was gone. But everything I am today is all because of her. I can't say that we were friends, but I will never forget that girl.

She was born on a Sunday morning of October, the year was 1993. The unwanted lovechild of a college student and a highschool drop-out cried her lungs out as she saw the world for the first time -- an old, dark room in the heart of a small, discreet town. Her father ran away from her before she could even walk. Her mother got scared and decided to give her away.

A childless widow brought her home and gave her the world. For once, she was loved. She was raised well and never lacked of anything. Her foster mother adored her so much that she often felt locked-up. She was never allowed to go out and play with other kids. Most of her childhood memories were that of dolls and textbooks.

It was in her teenage years that she finally felt in control of her life. She thought she was old enough to decide for herself. Typical teenager. Her foster mother decided to let her be, thinking she could learn from it.

That was when she was kicked out of school for the first time and got away with it.

In her sophomore year, she was transferred to a public school. It only took her a couple of months to get herself into trouble. She was kicked-out for a 3rd degree offense a week before the end of the school-year.

Her foster mother, though disappointed, never gave up on her. After she was kicked out for the third time, her mother decided to transfer her in their province where she graduated and ended up as the class valedictorian.

She was smart, alright. But she didn't really care. All she wanted was to get over the whole thing so she could go home.

She received a full college scholarship from the Oblates of Mary Immaculate. At fifteen, she was already working on her worksheets and journals as a college freshman.

Her foster mother couldn't be more proud.

After three years, she couldn't get more frustrated.

The pressure was probably too much for her. She left her good life and ran away with her boyfriend.

That's when the bad became worst.

Their relationship was made of drugs and deceit. They argued over stupid things and before she knew it, she had become a battered girlfriend. She spent a whole year in tears and countless suicide attempts.

The last time I saw her, she was badly bruised beyond recognition. She told me she had enough of it. She went home to her mother with a shattered heart, a broken nose, and fresh cuts on her wrist.

I've heard she was sent to a rehabilitation center, and she never came back.

That girl has taught me many things in life. I've learned from her mistakes and live by her hopes. I hope she's proud of me.

I hope she's happy.

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