Summary: Arria's my name. I've always wondered why I wasn't named something simpler, like Charlotte or Anne, something that would fit me more. Arria means "beautiful voice". But how could someone as quiet as me have one?
Of course, despite my simple nature, or what I thought was a simple nature anyways, my life so far has been quite... unique. With a sister whose personality is as big as her teased, out of proportion hair, a genius father who let alcohol consume his life, and a gruesome, tragic catastrophe, how could it be? But guess what? It's about to get a lot more tragic. And a heck of a lot more interesting.