All I've ever had is myself. I can't tell you who I am, where I came from, or who I'm fucking made of. I was ripped from the only happy I'd ever known, but I can't recall what it was...I just know part of me is now void, left hollow. How do you know who you are if you don't even know your own flesh and blood? How do you trust those in your life, when the deception lies among you? How do you know if you don't belong if you're in the only place you've ever called home? There was nothing I could do but survive...in my own way. This is my story...this is Where the Ivy Hides.