The Hannah Files 1.
This is a story. It's written strangely in the form of a conversation and in first person.
Hi, I'm Hannah. It's nice to meet you. I'm alright, today I went grocery shopping, got a few things. I'm thinking about making pizza for dinner but I don't like those frozen pre-made ones because they're just not as good, you know? So I'll have to make it from scratch and it takes forever. Bread dough is such a pain in the ass sometimes.
My favourite kind of pizza? I don't really have a favourite. Pepperoni is always good. Everyone likes that though. I think the pineapple ones are really good once you try them but the idea is just kind of gross. I mean, who puts pineapple on a pizza? It's like putting broccoli on a cake.
Wow, that'd really be gross.
Anyway, if we're gonna be friends, you should probably know some stuff about me. 'Cause you can't really base much of a friendship on tastes in food and what you did today, you know? It's about the important stuff. Views on life and things like that.
I hope you don't mind that I talk a lot. I can't really help it. I kinda trample over what everyone else says. It's kind of annoying sometimes, at least for the other person but at least I say interesting things sometimes. At least I think so.
Should I just start from where I was born?
Yeah, that makes the most sense.
The truth is I really don't know. It kinda makes me sound dumb. People look at me like I'm stupid or I just said something like 'The world would be a better place without (random ethnic group)'. But I really don't know.
I know I'm adopted. Well, was adopted. But my real birth parents and where I was born. I don't know.
I've tried to find out but I don't really get anywhere. I just know I was a preemie and I was born on June 10th in Crescent Heights but not at the hospital.
My parents used to joke that I was an angel that fell down from Heaven and they adopted me. They probably still would but they're kinda dead. And I'm no angel.
Hm? Oh. I don't really wanna talk about that right now. We kinda just met so I don't wanna get too in depth about my past. It's kind of a touchy subject. I'll tell you later, okay?
Okay, I was an only child. I think my Mom was infertile or my Dad was sterile, I don't really know. I just know they couldn't have kids so they adopted me.
I was brought up super religious. They were like hardcore Petecostals so we'd go to Church constantly. It really sucked.
No smoking. No TV. No movies. No sports. No music that wasn't Christian. No dancing. No pants or any revealing clothing whatsoever. It was against the rules to wear a fucking T-shirt with sleeves shorter than elbow length. Isn't that retarded?
No make-up. No jewellery, I was fine with that one, I never really liked jewellery but I did end up getting some piercings eventually. No haircutting. Seriously, if I even mentioned wanting to cut my hair shorter it started a whole shit-fest about how I was a sinning harlot and if I'd burn in Hell just for thinking about it.
Then when I was eleven I ran away from home. I just couldn't deal with it anymore. Too much stuff had happened and was still going on and I had to get away.
After about a week the cops found me and took me back home to my parents after they filed a missing persons report after I'd been gone for an hour. They yelled and screamed at me and told me I was going to hell then Dad whipped me with his belt. I don't remember anything afterwards. I think I passed out. I just woke up later all covered in welts.
I stopped believing in God because I couldn't believe a just and loving God would let all of it happen. All the shit that was happening to me. I mean, there was a whole lot. I'll tell you sometime later, it's really kinda personal.
I started hating God and my parents. God would stand by idly while they'd beat me and everything else and it bothered me. I used to tell myself that God would do something about it. God would stop it. I didn't deserve it, I was just a little kid. I couldn't believe God was really that mean.
So since God wouldn't stop it, I decided to stop it myself.
I really can't say. I'll tell you later.
Anyway, with the problem solved I ran away from home again. I just lived on the streets and stuff, squatting and whatever. I made a whole lot of friends and sorta became a punk. I mean, they dressed how I always wanted to but wasn't allowed and I liked the music. It was loud and fast and angry and it spoke to me. It was sort of like 'You can't hold me down, motherfucker', and that's how I felt.
I got a boyfriend and stuff, we had our own little squat. It was nice. At least until I found out he was cheating on me with some fat, stupid bitch named Jenny. She used to hang around with us and the rest of my big group of friends. She was loud and obnoxious and never shut the fuck up. She was always talking about how this band was great and how this one sucked. Basically it was 'I hate Hannah! I want people to like me instead even though I'm a loud, ugly, fat, boring, annoying bitch and she's better than I am in every conceivable way.'
I took care of that problem myself too.
Anyway, I better get going. I'm kinda hungry and I saw some steak in the refrigerator and steak it potatoes sounds pretty good right now. If I can find some wine, I'll be set.
I'll talk to you later, okay?
Great. It's nice meeting you. Bye.
Hi, I'm Hannah. It's nice to meet you. I'm alright, today I went grocery shopping, got a few things. I'm thinking about making pizza for dinner but I don't like those frozen pre-made ones because they're just not as good, you know? So I'll have to make it from scratch and it takes forever. Bread dough is such a pain in the ass sometimes.
My favourite kind of pizza? I don't really have a favourite. Pepperoni is always good. Everyone likes that though. I think the pineapple ones are really good once you try them but the idea is just kind of gross. I mean, who puts pineapple on a pizza? It's like putting broccoli on a cake.
Wow, that'd really be gross.
Anyway, if we're gonna be friends, you should probably know some stuff about me. 'Cause you can't really base much of a friendship on tastes in food and what you did today, you know? It's about the important stuff. Views on life and things like that.
I hope you don't mind that I talk a lot. I can't really help it. I kinda trample over what everyone else says. It's kind of annoying sometimes, at least for the other person but at least I say interesting things sometimes. At least I think so.
Should I just start from where I was born?
Yeah, that makes the most sense.
The truth is I really don't know. It kinda makes me sound dumb. People look at me like I'm stupid or I just said something like 'The world would be a better place without (random ethnic group)'. But I really don't know.
I know I'm adopted. Well, was adopted. But my real birth parents and where I was born. I don't know.
I've tried to find out but I don't really get anywhere. I just know I was a preemie and I was born on June 10th in Crescent Heights but not at the hospital.
My parents used to joke that I was an angel that fell down from Heaven and they adopted me. They probably still would but they're kinda dead. And I'm no angel.
Hm? Oh. I don't really wanna talk about that right now. We kinda just met so I don't wanna get too in depth about my past. It's kind of a touchy subject. I'll tell you later, okay?
Okay, I was an only child. I think my Mom was infertile or my Dad was sterile, I don't really know. I just know they couldn't have kids so they adopted me.
I was brought up super religious. They were like hardcore Petecostals so we'd go to Church constantly. It really sucked.
No smoking. No TV. No movies. No sports. No music that wasn't Christian. No dancing. No pants or any revealing clothing whatsoever. It was against the rules to wear a fucking T-shirt with sleeves shorter than elbow length. Isn't that retarded?
No make-up. No jewellery, I was fine with that one, I never really liked jewellery but I did end up getting some piercings eventually. No haircutting. Seriously, if I even mentioned wanting to cut my hair shorter it started a whole shit-fest about how I was a sinning harlot and if I'd burn in Hell just for thinking about it.
Then when I was eleven I ran away from home. I just couldn't deal with it anymore. Too much stuff had happened and was still going on and I had to get away.
After about a week the cops found me and took me back home to my parents after they filed a missing persons report after I'd been gone for an hour. They yelled and screamed at me and told me I was going to hell then Dad whipped me with his belt. I don't remember anything afterwards. I think I passed out. I just woke up later all covered in welts.
I stopped believing in God because I couldn't believe a just and loving God would let all of it happen. All the shit that was happening to me. I mean, there was a whole lot. I'll tell you sometime later, it's really kinda personal.
I started hating God and my parents. God would stand by idly while they'd beat me and everything else and it bothered me. I used to tell myself that God would do something about it. God would stop it. I didn't deserve it, I was just a little kid. I couldn't believe God was really that mean.
So since God wouldn't stop it, I decided to stop it myself.
I really can't say. I'll tell you later.
Anyway, with the problem solved I ran away from home again. I just lived on the streets and stuff, squatting and whatever. I made a whole lot of friends and sorta became a punk. I mean, they dressed how I always wanted to but wasn't allowed and I liked the music. It was loud and fast and angry and it spoke to me. It was sort of like 'You can't hold me down, motherfucker', and that's how I felt.
I got a boyfriend and stuff, we had our own little squat. It was nice. At least until I found out he was cheating on me with some fat, stupid bitch named Jenny. She used to hang around with us and the rest of my big group of friends. She was loud and obnoxious and never shut the fuck up. She was always talking about how this band was great and how this one sucked. Basically it was 'I hate Hannah! I want people to like me instead even though I'm a loud, ugly, fat, boring, annoying bitch and she's better than I am in every conceivable way.'
I took care of that problem myself too.
Anyway, I better get going. I'm kinda hungry and I saw some steak in the refrigerator and steak it potatoes sounds pretty good right now. If I can find some wine, I'll be set.
I'll talk to you later, okay?
Great. It's nice meeting you. Bye.