Author's note: Though this is a bit funny in a dark way once you know what I'm talking about, this is a drama story. All of this is TRUE. It really happened. You've been warned.



I was raised by my parents and grandparents jointly with my three siblings. My siblings were all a year younger than me and were named Micah, Esther, and Daniel - names from the Bible. My name is from the Bible too. Micah was hit by a car before I could remember him. Our neighbor had found him - it had been a hit and run. The driver was never caught.

I was often bullying my sister and brother, because they were very short and weak and couldn't speak. I would tie toilet paper and bows on them and pull their hair. They would always scratch me, and became very paranoid. Eventually I stopped being so mean.

Esther died of diabetes at age eight. It was really sad. She collapsed on the bathroom floor and we found her dead in the morning. Daniel died a year later. He had a fatal disease like AIDS that was very contagious. We had to keep him quarantined indoors, but my mommy said he'd be happier if we had the doctor kill him. They put him in a cage and drove him away while he cried in panic. It was all very heartbreaking. I think they performed a lobotomy in a lab on him later so they could test cures for the disease.

Not long after we adopted two baby twins, Zoe and Moon. They're still alive today, and very rowdy and rambunctious.

Did I mention they're all cats?