You know that feeling? The feeling that you're invisible? I know that feeling. I know it all too well. When your parents are fighting, and your brother is going through a weird stage, and your little, precious and innocent sister is crying? The baby crying in the background. And no money to your family name.


I was the free spirit, the good sister. I was 15. And this is my story.


Lets begin in Veronaville, where I live and have lived in the dingiest house ever since my family came to America.



"It'll be okay, Morgan," Reagan whispered gently to the young girl. Morgan squeezed her sister tightly.
"I love you, Rea," she said. "But what if Mom and Dad get a divorce? Will they let us stay together?"
The fear that had been driving at the back of Reagan's mind came to her sight, and she bit her lip. "I know they will, baby," she admonished, but her heart was hurting. If only she could escape, and take the otheres with her! Away from their parents who didn't care, from their horrible house, from their public school. If only she had wings.