Once upon a time, there was a girl who started her humdrum tale with a cliche prologue that had been used since dinosaurs walked the earth. This same girl was sitting in the waiting room at a local police station, wondering about her cliche, not-so-dull life. Her life had been exciting for a while. It had started when she was 10. In the dead of the night, there was a rattling on the window. She opened it to find her dad and Murphy, their jack russel, seated under the moon. He told her in a soothing voice, "sweety, its okay come with me." 

These had been the same words Darrel had said to her. " Its okay sweety, come with me." She had been 14--he, 20. She was thin but filled with long blonde locks and eyes like the ocean with a voice like a sirenes. Darrel had been drawn to her not for her sweet personality but for her appearance. He'd never expected a phone call like the one she gave him. He'd been safe, hed done nothing wrong but fall in love with the black cat. 

"Just come with me, sweety." She had been 18. Shed spent the night of her 18th birthday getting wasted and throwing her life down a toilet--or, as some would say, throwing her life up in a toilet. She was hallucination and invisible, until she wasn't. The hammer shot through the glass and the sirens sounded and everyone ran but her. She couldnt hear the sirens. She couldnt see them running. She was blinded by the lust of adventure and a zeal of wanting to feel anything but pain. So here she is, the once upon a time girl.