The Novella Life of Illuscia Nester Himawari

I developed a drug addiction in my teens. It tore me apart for a long time, but it was nothing compared to the events that sparked it. I know. We’ve all struggled. Get over it. That’s what my dad would say, the son of a bitch. My mom would probably feign empathy, but fuck it up by trying a little too hard. Then she’d drink herself to sleep. This isn’t a story about my dad and my mom though. This isn’t even a story about my addiction. This is a story about a monster, and the scars they left upon my life. It’s a story about the end of my world, and it might be a story about the end of yours too. It began when I was eight. Third grade, for me, was not a pleasant time. Sure, there are bright spots in the year. There always are. Overall though, I rate third grade a 1/10, and that’s probably being generous. You may have surmised that my mother and father were not exactly great role models in my life. My dad was cold and,