My father was a builder. Good money, I guess. 

He raised and sold pigs, which basically was better or rather, much easier. The cost of a pig alone here on the island would cost around seven hundred for a mature boar. A sow, on the other hand, would cost a little more. Since she is able to breed, as of now we had two sows, a boar and with fifteen piglets everything would have been all well and good, if my dad would hire some farmhands, right? 

But nope. He had to continue playing cheap and so I; this daughter had to help with them. 

I hated pigs! 

They stink, and they ate anything including trying to eat me, on several occasions, but mmm... I eat them so fair is fair; I suppose.

My dad also had dogs; in my eyes, this was not bad and is seen as more of a good thing, since my so-called father was hardly home. They were four of them, three males, one female, I adored them all.

My grandmother and grandfather, on the other hand was something else.

Both of them owned land across the island. My grandfather invested in houses — like he bought them, repaired them and then sold them. My grandmother — ah, this dear grandma, had three homes, yes, three. 

The family home, which was never occupied it took up almost four acres of land and was extremely pretty. It was fenced off by a twelve-foot wall and guarded by around fifteen dogs. May be more by now I have no clue, really. 

No one would dare enter, since the things that guarded were monstrosities. 

For example: The English mastiff, wolfhound, saint Bernard that guarded were all supposed to be at max. what 36 inches, right? 

Well, these things she... I have no idea what she fed them was around 43-50 inches. 

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Anyway, the main house used is; a six-bedroomed, three bathrooms, fully walled home located near a gully. The gully is where a bunch of trees grew bamboo, mango, golden apple some and Bush. Yes, Bush! Behind that area it was really cool even though the island was extremely hot even during the rainy season back to my grandmother, I have to say that woman even though we shared the same blood I feel like "slamming tar" each time I even got a glimpse of her face. For instance, what guarded that house she used were two snakes, a fifteen-foot python and a twelve-foot boa constrictor. 

I'd know because that evil woman had locked the previous host in the yard not long later. The boa had almost squeezed her to death while the grandmother watched. 

Who would watch their grandchild being squeezed to death? 

This entire family was cold-blooded. 

So cold-blooded I wanted to flip tables left and right like a crazy woman, Er… teenager. 

The other children from my father, my elder sisters, who had locked previous host in an empty dog pen and trapped two dogs on each side, drenching me in pig blood and dog food.

Those memories solidified my urge to hurry and save enough so I can flee from this sort of life. 

Why would my rebirth bring me back to this part of life? 

This is more like a damn joke! 

Other than being an evil woman; my grandmother was a cultured woman, at seventy-five with a slim fit form. She looked like forty, when I realised how young she looked for a seventy-five-year-old woman. I nodded to myself, wishing I could grow up to look just like her, but let's be honest here that will never ever be possible I'd have to work harder, and long silver hair that reached the middle of her back in soft waves, she was pretty with dark brown skin, but let's get to the point here, she is the head reason my dad is so cheap! Anyway, I opened my eyes to a new day. It has been seven years since I had been sucked into this body after wandering for the only god knows how long. 

It was another morning the annoying sound of the rooster woke me with an irritated snarl I threw the sheets off of me, there were a plus and a negative to the sound, a plus being I did my chores on time, therefore, earning me my weekly pay. 

Yes, I had to earn every cent I was given.

I supposed to some it was unfair. A child should not have to work for her parent to earn her keep, but life was not easy. 

I knew deep down father wanted me to always make an effort for what I earn so no one can look down on me, we at least it's what I tell myself you know so I can continue to stay positive.

Stretching, I walked to the window, picked up a rock that was there and threw it at the rooster, missing it by a hair's breadth but getting my point across when it went silent. 

I didn't want it to die, but it should always remember when to shut to f*ck up! 

Further down the hill about two minutes' walk from the house the stone and wooden pigsty was located. I heard the annoying things squealing. 

Fully up, I got up from the bed tossing the threadbare sheets aside; I pulled on shorts and a vest. Along with some knee-high rubber boots, they were fairly new since I bought them six months ago. 

If they were necessary, I would have just continued to walk around barefoot, but who likes to step in stray s**t? 

Even though it hurt my savings, but was a necessity, again; who would want to clean a pigsty with no shoes all the time as well? 

Yeh I know right, not me, I couldn't. Three days was enough! 

As if inhaling that grossness was not enough.