Lania Lestrange (part 1 - Who Am I?)

"Strange"

That's what I always hear, that's what they always say.

In school, I never gained confidence, been pushed around by anybody and that makes me look stupid.

In Algebra, I always answered the correct formulas but my teacher always thought that I'm the Know-It-All type. I don't know what's the problem, is it me? or is it them? or is it the ghost at my auntie's cupboard? haha, nevertheless, I'm always like this, I'm always strange.

At home, when I arrived from school, my dad always smell my hair, to check if I was smoking then tell me to make some soup for my little brother who always complain that his head hurts.

And by the way, my mom died after giving birth to her third child which is 8 months old at this moment, another mouth to feed, another headache to take.

My dad got a job yesterday, a local columnist.

He make daily scoops about people I barely know. Writing stuffs I somehow understand, he even asked me to talk to our neighbors and ask them things about "George Willington"

Well enough with that, I hate this life, I don't have a mother, I have two brothers and a father I barely talk with.

I wish someday I'll know what's my purpose in this world.

(to be continued)