Roxanne Dyson
Ghost
@RebelliousRoxy1
I'm Roxanne. Or known as Oxy Roxy. Friends just call me Roxy. I died in July of 1993 by committing suicide from overdosinng on Oxycotton. Oxycotton was and still is my favorite drug.
My story starts out as a normal teenage life. Perfect family, perfect house, perfect everything. That is, until my mother cheated on my father with her now-husband, Donald Dillard, owner of Dillard's Department Store.
My father found out about the affair and quickly divorced my mother, leaving me behind like I didn't even matter to him. My mother immediately married Donald after the divorce. We shot up from middle class to upper in a heartbeat.
I never like Donald, even before he started physicallyh abusing me. He loved drinking and when he drank, Vodka was his favorite. Vodka made him into an evil person, always picking on me. As I got older, I stopped taking his verbal abuse and would scream back at him, knowing I would get blasted by his hand or his fist.
My mother never believed me. She allowed it to keep on going, thinking that I was lying about being abused because she knew I didn't like Donald to begin with.
I started getting into drugs, wearing darker, sluttier clothing, even taking the bad habit of smoking. I really didn't even give a shit anymore. I had to cover my bruises when I was at school, knowing that my mother would be to blame just as much as Donald. Even though my mother was stupid, I still loved her.
One night, Donald came home from his office, already drunk. I could smell the alcohol on his breath and decided to head upstairs to my room to avoid confrontation. That night I had a bloodly lip and a black eye, a cracked rib, and a sprained ankle from being beaten into the living room floor. Knowing I had some pain pills in my room, I took them, emptying the whole bottle and without hesitating, I took all of the pills, knowing I would soon die.
Now I am roaming the house, just like everyone else who was damned for all eternity in this filthy shithole. I doubt I will ever find love.
My story starts out as a normal teenage life. Perfect family, perfect house, perfect everything. That is, until my mother cheated on my father with her now-husband, Donald Dillard, owner of Dillard's Department Store.
My father found out about the affair and quickly divorced my mother, leaving me behind like I didn't even matter to him. My mother immediately married Donald after the divorce. We shot up from middle class to upper in a heartbeat.
I never like Donald, even before he started physicallyh abusing me. He loved drinking and when he drank, Vodka was his favorite. Vodka made him into an evil person, always picking on me. As I got older, I stopped taking his verbal abuse and would scream back at him, knowing I would get blasted by his hand or his fist.
My mother never believed me. She allowed it to keep on going, thinking that I was lying about being abused because she knew I didn't like Donald to begin with.
I started getting into drugs, wearing darker, sluttier clothing, even taking the bad habit of smoking. I really didn't even give a shit anymore. I had to cover my bruises when I was at school, knowing that my mother would be to blame just as much as Donald. Even though my mother was stupid, I still loved her.
One night, Donald came home from his office, already drunk. I could smell the alcohol on his breath and decided to head upstairs to my room to avoid confrontation. That night I had a bloodly lip and a black eye, a cracked rib, and a sprained ankle from being beaten into the living room floor. Knowing I had some pain pills in my room, I took them, emptying the whole bottle and without hesitating, I took all of the pills, knowing I would soon die.
Now I am roaming the house, just like everyone else who was damned for all eternity in this filthy shithole. I doubt I will ever find love.