Sad my book will be this and not another happier thing. So...let’s start with the mythical leech that brought hell to my home. You see my dear, she was a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Why?

Well, her holiness Teresa de Jesús, was a nun. So yea, that wasn’t even her real name. Met her when I was 3 or 4 years old, I was an innocent religious child at the time. I have no idea why she was so sweet to my dearest mother and I, but she was.

Now, I usually do not badmouth anyone, but she is one of the few people who gained extreme dislike from me.

Let’s start by her causing the divorce of my parents. The devilish nun whispered lies of my father into my mum’s ears. Told her she was always meant to be a nun, a dream my mum had had when she was 16 years old.

My dear mum believed every word coming from the demon’s mouth. And so, my parents divorced after my mum’s second miscarriage. Then...the apocalypse of my life initiated.

I was only nine, a naive child at heart. Easy to manipulate. And she did..till I turned eleven and knew what she was doing...everything changed.

Teresa took charge, ordering me around as if she were my mother. I rue the day I decided to call her aunt or tell her she would be my godmother. The fat nun yelled, pulled me, punished me, took me to a nutriologist. That last one was my personal worst.

The bony doctor claimed I was unhealthy...this was the start of my first medications that didn’t have to do much with sickness at all. Injections, painful ones filled with iron. I was afraid of them, a tiny girl running to her room and desperately locking the door in order to be protected. To my horror, the lock did not work.

The door slammed open as I screamed and cried.

She also took my first kiss, made comments about how thin I was, that I needed more meat in my bones. The woman wasn’t satisfied though, she would stare at my butt and slap it randomly, compliment it. Sister Leech made me feel uncomfortable to be complemented. Feel terrible when anyone looked at me.

Sometimes I wonder if she ever got a twisted satisfaction out of this.

Well...she took control over everything. If my friends came over...our sleep overs ended up consisting of doing chores, deeming them lame. My days were about me eating food mixed with everything she found in the kitchen, not getting water and drinking thick milkshakes (with barely any milk at all), forced to hearing her make my darling mother cry, try to do homework, be told what a terrible daughter I was and her screaming I should go live with my father.

That’s right, sister Leech, wanted to kick me out of my own home. She wanted me to live with my father, whom she called the devil.

I would be terrified of her, Teresa guilt-tripped anyone she wanted to use. She caused my darling mum to drown herself in work. Nobody believed me when I talked about the hell I lived.

Who would? I was only a child who was isolated, framed by her every time we had guests.

How? Well she would say something about me, then make me do something, and if I dared to grimace, speak or anything of that sort, I managed to somehow prove truth in her words.

Teresa lived comparing me with my best friends. I guess that’s why I always had such a low self esteem.

I have no idea how my mom did it, but she reconnected with me, kicked sister Leech out of our home, but lost many friends in the process.

Teresa de Jesús gained hate by many, including my father. This is hard to accomplish, but she did it. To the point my father once told me that he would rather kill her than let her step foot in his house or anywhere near me.

I guess this marks the end of my letter.

The start and the first reason why I want to die:

None heard me when I needed them, I can’t trust family.