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I am the youngest in my family. Now, I’m well aware that that isn’t saying much. I have one sibling. My older brother. Nobody connects us as being related. We have different last names, having different fathers and we have different goals and aspirations. My brother didn’t care about school. He got bad grades, slept through class and didn’t really try, though we all know he’s incredibly smart. My parents were a little disappointed in his lack of interest in school, even when I was 6 and 7, I could tell. So I wanted to make sure they were proud of me. I never stuck a toe out of line that they knew about. I was the princess, the angel, the perfect one. When I got into high school, my grades slipped… drastically. I failed my first class. I was depressed. General teenage angst I know now, but then I thought the world was out to get me. When I was around my parents, I was their princess, only there to please, when I was with my friends, I was a different person entirely… that person got the nickname Rose. Even now, around my family I’m altered, never quite me, that’s Sarah. The perfect princess. Rose is the person I am around my friends, the person I am when I feel relaxed and don’t feel the need to impress. I don’t want to lose that person. I’m eternally Rose, like it or not.