Hello, this is Clare. This is the first blog entry on my own. The sky didn't fall when I let the readers interview me, so I guess I don't mind stepping a little bit out on a limb and talking about my past.
I ended up writing kind of a lot... so if you want to read it click the link below if you're currently on the main page, or scroll down if you direct-linked.
So here goes:
I wasn't born as Clare. Actually, I've only been "Clare" for a couple of weeks. I saw it on a hospital sign, and I liked it. I decided it would do for now. In a weird way, I'm getting used to it.
Fifteen years ago, I was born as Melody Arkwright. My parents weren't married. Actually, they didn't really know each other that well. Nor were they very interested in me. My father is from an old money family, and they didn't approve, while my mother was the upwardly-mobile type who didn't really have any time for me. They passed my back and forth till I was about two, then I went to live with my grandma.
That might seem kind of sad, but it wasn't. I was actually really happy with her. We lived in a little cottage in Truro, Nova Scotia. I went to the local public school, and I liked to read and study, but I also played softball, field hockey, and tennis. I was on the swim team. I had a lot of friends. We'd go camping and hiking and stuff a lot. My grandma was really nice to me and always made me feel like a really special person.
Unfortunately, my grandma died three years ago. She had a heart attack. It was really sudden. I still miss her a lot.
No one else in my family really wanted me, after my grandma died. My dad was working on a business deal in Belize for the year, and "couldn't" come get me. I called him and said if he sent a plane ticket I would just come to Belize and he wouldn't have to worry about it, but he said he had to get off the phone because he was too busy to talk, and he never called me back. My mom was pulling eighty hour work weeks trying to make partner at her law firm, so she wasn't interested in disrupting that for her kid. There was a big family fight about who was going to be stuck with me - you'd think I was the plague, or something.
Finally my aunt, uncle, and two young adult male cousins on my father's side drew the short straw and got bullied into taking custody of me. It was a disaster. I had to move to Denver, and start at a new school where I had no friends. All the kids at that school were really stuck up, and made fun of me. My aunt and uncle wouldn't let me do any activities after school, so it was even harder to meet people.
I'm not going to lie - my behaviour was pretty bad. The family didn't understand, though. They never even said they were sorry about my grandmother. They just yelled at me and called me an ungrateful jerk who didn't appreciate what they were sacrificing for me.
It got worse when my cousins started being abusive to me. My aunt and uncle found out, and they said I was a troublemaker and they never should have taken me in. They kicked me out, and I had nowhere to go.
Once I was on the streets, I started taking drugs because I wanted the pain to stop. I thought I'd hit rock bottom. I was so very, very wrong... because then I met the vampires for the first time.
I guess that's enough of my moaning for one entry. Later I'll talk about what happened next. Thanks for reading.