“You are the ugliest person ever. Your dad probably killed himself on purpose, because he knew you were his kid and he had to come home to you. You wonder why you have no friends.” Who wrote this terrible letter? I kept asking myself over and over. Why? Why me, what did I ever do?
It was dinner time. I wasn’t hungry. I felt like I was going to throw up. I was so disgusted. Ever since my family disappeared, I hadn’t been myself. I was always by myself; all my friends had rejected me. Life with my dad was terrible and I always wished he would die; I totally regret wishing for that to happen. I’m lonely. I have no body. I wished I could go back in time and start all over again.
I was sick of my life. What was the point of me being alive? I mean, everyone hated me and I was so alone, I was going insane.
Slowly, like a turtle, I trudged up the old, white, wooded staircase. I quickly open up the rusty doorknob, and plop down on my Lizzie McGuire bed, beginning my stupid homework. English, math, science… what’s the point of homework? It’s so boring!!!!!!
I went downstairs, and fixed myself up a piece of moist chocolate cake with creamy chocolate frosting that my aunt had brought over for me. I slowly eat my slice of heaven, hoping it will never disappear. I take small bites, like the size of walnuts. Every bite melted in my mouth, like butter. The creamy, tender, moist, delicate cake was so delicious. It was the best thing that I have had in the longest time. As I eagerly reach in for another bite, my silver fork scrapes against my teeth. It’s gone. Just like everything else in my life.
I return to my homework. I saw there was a missed message. I looked at my phone, but just as I was about to read the message, my phone vibrated in my hand. It said “Restricted Caller.”
I hesitantly answered, “Hello?”
“Hello.” The other person on the line said. “I’m calling you today to remind you how ugly and unpopular you are. I hope you enjoy dying alone. Good bye.”
The phone went silent. I was so scared, yet so angry. Who was the caller? My mind was racing. Why does everyone bully me? My blood was boiling, with rage. This was the last straw. I had had it with everyone. Soon, their dreams will come true.
*
*
*

I stumbled into the school as Bryanna and her group started to smirk at me. I quickly ducked away, knowing that I’d never have to deal with them again after this. I was so tired. So tired after crying all night about my father. About my mom. About the call. About every little flaw that occurred to me. Only me.

English was a nightmare with all of Bryanna’s friends staring at my every move, whispering every so often to each other. They hissed at me like vicious cobra snakes. I had enough.

The day seemed like it would never end.
The final bell rang. School was out for the weekend. I was so glad.
I slumped home from school. The cold, nipping wind whistled through my bright red ears, sounding like a screeching. The mist from outside made it almost impossible to see two feet in front of me. I could hear the wind whisper little secrets to me. Secrets that other people said and kept about me. I pushed the mysterious secrets away, knowing that they were all untrue. My life was untrue. This was all a dream, I kept reassuring myself. It was all a dream where I was tied up in a black hole, desperately searching for that one sliver of light that would give me a slight glimmer of hope.

My beat-up leather boots trudged up the muddy hill to my weary, blue house. I hugged my coat around me tighter, hoping to grasp onto the last thing of my mother’s things that was left behind for me. Tears stung my cold face, slowly trickling down my cheeks. I remember the times we had when she was still around.

“Do you ever stop crying?” I asked myself. Every day couldn’t go without the shed of one single tear. That started to make me cry even more. Suddenly, I tripped over a slimy rock, and I tumbled to the creek that meandered its way around our house. Once I stopped rolling, my arms and legs screamed out in pain. I groaned and attempted to roll over and get up, but I was too paralyzed with fear.

“Kill me now,” I muttered, spitting the mud out of my mouth. “Then, everyone would be happy.” A large splinter was embedded in my right thigh. I yanked at it, grimacing until I finally eased it out. “Just kill me.”

As I looked up at the sky, an excruciatingly bright light blinded me.

“Aaaah!” I shrieked. My grimy hands couldn’t block this petrifying light from my puffy red eyes.

It was then when I realized it was an angel, telling me I was alright. Telling me I was perfectly perfect. I couldn’t keep from smiling at this beautiful light.

For once I was happy, like nothing would ever go wrong.
*
*
*
That night, I fixed myself a glorious dinner of peanut butter sandwiches and hot chocolate. I even said a word of prayer before digging into the meal.
After pigging out, I decided to take a shower and wash the mud and dirt off my body. I only had a few bruises and a gash where the splinter was, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying the shower.
It honestly felt very good to clean myself of all the bad things in life.

The angel’s word of advice. Somehow gave me a boost to go on and become a new Camryn.
I quickly dried off and ran to my Lizzie McGuire bed, snuggling under the covers. I reached for the small TV remote that was by my feet. Once I grabbed the remote, I flipped the TV on and realized that the news report of my dead father was on.
Great, I thought. I must have accidentally recorded it. As I gathered up enough courage to watch, I pressed the play button, expecting the worst. But actually, I started to smile at what I just heard.

*

*

*

“The man that we once thought to be dead in his Vegas room has suddenly awakened from a long coma. He says he doesn’t remember anything, except that he has a daughter named, Camryn, that he left at home. He says he wants to go home and reassure his daughter that he is okay. Here is a short snippet we captured after he awoke.” The TV transitioned to a video of my father in a hospital bed, looking healthy and calm.
“Camryn, if you are watching this, I want you to know that I’m okay. I love you.” And the clip transitioned back to the woman.
“Isn’t that incredible? Back to you, Nick.”
I turned the TV off. I was in total shock.
My dad said he loved me.




*
*

*



My smile was from ear to ear! I couldn’t believe he was alive. Never in my life have I felt so good. I sprung from my bed and started to jump around. I grabbed my phone and started to dial the Vegas hospital.
“Hello, this is Las Vegas hospital. How may I help you?” said a warm voice.
“Um hey,” I said. “Is my father there? His name is Christopher Ryan.” I trembled nervously.
“Oh my god. Are you that man’s daughter?” the nurse said, surprised.
“Yeah.” A tremendous silence followed.
“Hullo?” grunted a familiar voice.
“Dad?” I whispered.
“Camryn, is that you?” said a confused voice.
“Yes, Dad. It’s me.” Tears were falling out of my eyes. I just couldn’t believe this miracle.
“Honey, I am so sorry about everything. Are you alright?”He sounded deeply concerned.
“I’m fine. Aunt Amy has been checking up on me. Are you okay?”
“Better now that I’m talking to you.” You could just picture him smiling on the other end, by the way his voice was.
I giggled, “When are you coming home?” I was so glad that I would have part of my life back again.
“Tomorrow.” he said confidently.
“Promise?” I stressed eagerly.
“Promise, sweetheart.” he said in a warm voice.
“Okay.”
“I love you so much, Camryn,” he said tenderly.
“I love you too, Dad.” I hung up. He loves me so much. I couldn’t ask for anything better until my phone started to vibrate again. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Bryanna,” said Bryanna. “Can we start over?”
And I think you can guess how my life went from there.