My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself. ------------------------------------------------------------------- My life experiences have taught me that trials and tribulations can be the best opportunities to grow. When I was 12 years old, I was admitted into a psychiatric institution because I had lost all hope. After struggling with undiagnosed thyroid disease, depression, anxiety, and ADHD, the doctors explained to me that my pain was not because there was something wrong with me but because my brain and body were sick. Initially, this information was hard to accept because I had believed the opposite for the past four years. Even still, I made it a point to change my outlook, realizing that I’d rather live and make more mistakes than die and never get to make them again. This all happened in 7th grade. By 8th grade, I became Student Council President and was inducted into the National Junior Honors Society, receiving Distinguished Honor Roll for my academic success. Following middle school, I’ve continued to maintain Distinguished Honor Roll in addition to joining the volleyball team, volunteering in my community, becoming a member of National Honors Society and the National Society of High School Scholars, and being a better big sister to my two siblings (aged 13 and 7). When people ask for my thoughts on dealing with mental health at such a young age, I tell them that I am grateful for the experience. In fact, I’m incredibly thankful for my suffering because it taught me so much about my character and strength. From believing I wouldn’t make it to 2018 to now looking forward to my senior year in high school, I know I’ve made progress and am proud of who I’ve become. In retrospect, I am so glad I changed my mindset. Not only did I grow as a person from this trial, but I grew as human; my experiences and unique perspective will continue to help me help others for the rest of my life. Although the pain was real, and my soul was broken, the fact that I am now able to make a difference in other people’s lives is all I need for me to know my suffering was worth it. This experience has taught me how to understand and approach others in similar situations. My unique perspective on depression and suicidality in younger children is an advantage I plan to use to improve the world around me. Knowing that my pain can help someone else heal theirs inspires me to share my story!

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I’d always felt like my dad, and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, this trial has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My life experiences have taught me that trials and tribulations can be the best opportunities to grow. When I was 12 years old, I was admitted into a psychiatric institution because I had lost all hope. After struggling with undiagnosed thyroid disease, depression, anxiety, and ADHD, the doctors explained to me that my pain was not because there was something wrong with me but because my brain and body were sick. Initially, this information was hard to accept because I had believed the opposite for the past four years. Even still, I made it a point to change my outlook, realizing that I’d rather live and make more mistakes than die and never get to make them again. This all happened in 7th grade. By 8th grade, I became Student Council President and was inducted into the National Junior Honors Society, receiving Distinguished Honor Roll for my academic success. Following middle school, I’ve continued to maintain Distinguished Honor Roll in addition to joining the volleyball team, volunteering in my community, becoming a member of National Honors Society and the National Society of High School Scholars, and being a better big sister to my two siblings (aged 13 and 7). When people ask for my thoughts on dealing with mental health at such a young age, I tell them that I am grateful for the experience. In fact, I’m incredibly thankful for my suffering because it taught me so much about my character and strength. From believing I wouldn’t make it to 2018 to now looking forward to my senior year in high school, I know I’ve made progress and am proud of who I’ve become. In retrospect, I am so glad I changed my mindset. Not only did I grow as a person from this trial, but I grew as human; my experiences and unique perspective will continue to help me help others for the rest of my life. Although the pain was real, and my soul was broken, the fact that I am now able to make a difference in other people’s lives is all I need for me to know my suffering was worth it. This experience has taught me how to understand and approach others in similar situations. My unique perspective on depression and suicidality in younger children is an advantage I plan to use to improve the world around me. Knowing that my pain can help someone else heal theirs inspires me to share my story!

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My life experiences have taught me that trials and tribulations can be the best opportunities to grow. When I was 12 years old, I was admitted into a psychiatric institution because I had lost all hope. After struggling with undiagnosed thyroid disease, depression, anxiety, and ADHD, the doctors explained to me that my pain was not because there was something wrong with me but because my brain and body were sick. Initially, this information was hard to accept because I had believed the opposite for the past four years. Even still, I made it a point to change my outlook, realizing that I’d rather live and make more mistakes than die and never get to make them again. This all happened in 7th grade. By 8th grade, I became Student Council President and was inducted into the National Junior Honors Society, receiving Distinguished Honor Roll for my academic success. Following middle school, I’ve continued to maintain Distinguished Honor Roll in addition to joining the volleyball team, volunteering in my community, becoming a member of National Honors Society and the National Society of High School Scholars, and being a better big sister to my two siblings (aged 13 and 7). When people ask for my thoughts on dealing with mental health at such a young age, I tell them that I am grateful for the experience. In fact, I’m incredibly thankful for my suffering because it taught me so much about my character and strength. From believing I wouldn’t make it to 2018 to now looking forward to my senior year in high school, I know I’ve made progress and am proud of who I’ve become. In retrospect, I am so glad I changed my mindset. Not only did I grow as a person from this trial, but I grew as human; my experiences and unique perspective will continue to help me help others for the rest of my life. Although the pain was real, and my soul was broken, the fact that I am now able to make a difference in other people’s lives is all I need for me to know my suffering was worth it. This experience has taught me how to understand and approach others in similar situations. My unique perspective on depression and suicidality in younger children is an advantage I plan to use to improve the world around me. Knowing that my pain can help someone else heal theirs inspires me to share my story!

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My life experiences have taught me that trials and tribulations can be the best opportunities to grow. When I was 12 years old, I was admitted into a psychiatric institution because I had lost all hope. After struggling with undiagnosed thyroid disease, depression, anxiety, and ADHD, the doctors explained to me that my pain was not because there was something wrong with me but because my brain and body were sick. Initially, this information was hard to accept because I had believed the opposite for the past four years. Even still, I made it a point to change my outlook, realizing that I’d rather live and make more mistakes than die and never get to make them again. This all happened in 7th grade. By 8th grade, I became Student Council President and was inducted into the National Junior Honors Society, receiving Distinguished Honor Roll for my academic success. Following middle school, I’ve continued to maintain Distinguished Honor Roll in addition to joining the volleyball team, volunteering in my community, becoming a member of National Honors Society and the National Society of High School Scholars, and being a better big sister to my two siblings (aged 13 and 7). When people ask for my thoughts on dealing with mental health at such a young age, I tell them that I am grateful for the experience. In fact, I’m incredibly thankful for my suffering because it taught me so much about my character and strength. From believing I wouldn’t make it to 2018 to now looking forward to my senior year in high school, I know I’ve made progress and am proud of who I’ve become. In retrospect, I am so glad I changed my mindset. Not only did I grow as a person from this trial, but I grew as human; my experiences and unique perspective will continue to help me help others for the rest of my life. Although the pain was real, and my soul was broken, the fact that I am now able to make a difference in other people’s lives is all I need for me to know my suffering was worth it. This experience has taught me how to understand and approach others in similar situations. My unique perspective on depression and suicidality in younger children is an advantage I plan to use to improve the world around me. Knowing that my pain can help someone else heal theirs inspires me to share my story!

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My town’s police sergeant is a murderer, a child abuser, a sex offender, a cheater, and a father- my father. Growing up, however, my dad was my best friend. “Dada” was my first word; his hug was my biggest comfort, and every activity that involved him was my favorite. I loved riding four-wheelers and dirt bikes, building “new inventions” with his leftover machine parts and doing workouts with him in the basement. I loved playing video games, drinking protein shakes, and listening to him recount his funny work interactions with all the bad guys. I’d always felt like my dad and I understood each other, but now I know I couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’ve learned this truth about my dad gradually, but my world has been shattered all the same. In the absence of all stability, I’ve both tried and failed to rebuild what my life once was. In doing so, I’ve realized that I will never be able to recreate the past. My only option is to move forward. While I didn’t plan to start my senior year mourning my father, the personal growth resulting from this trial shows that my suffering is not in vain. The hardest pill to swallow was learning that the justice system is not always just. My father should be in jail, but instead, the minimal consequences he is facing will be wiped from his record after 2026. This alone makes my blood boil, and to think that this type of injustice is happening everywhere makes me all the more sick. Even still, I’ve realized that there is a silver lining to this experience, as it has revealed my passion for social justice and deepened my emotional understanding of others. I can now relate with those who have lost someone close to them, those who have been lied to or betrayed by family, and anyone who has been unjustly served in a legal court. My empathy has grown and I find it much easier to connect with people that I have nothing in common with. These skills not only help me to navigate my day-to-day live, but they will continue to help me succeed in college and, eventually, in my career. Public relations has always piqued my interest, and now that I’ve witnessed judicial corruption firsthand, I am certain I’ll use my job to inspire justice at every opportunity I am presented. Never in a million years did I expect my world to collapse one month before my senior year. When the truth about my dad set in, all I could do was replay my childhood memories of him in my mind and cry. Not only did my father lie to me from the minute I was born, but so did my best friend. I’m still grieving him as if he died, but I’m not as miserable as I’d expected. Along the way I’ve realized that there is purpose in this hardship, which gives me the inner strength I need to move on. My path forward is clear now too, as I intend to pursue my passion for social justice in public relations. I may have lost my dad, but I have found myself.

My life experiences have taught me that trials and tribulations can be the best opportunities to grow. When I was 12 years old, I was admitted into a psychiatric institution because I had lost all hope. After struggling with undiagnosed thyroid disease, depression, anxiety, and ADHD, the doctors explained to me that my pain was not because there was something wrong with me but because my brain and body were sick. Initially, this information was hard to accept because I had believed the opposite for the past four years. Even still, I made it a point to change my outlook, realizing that I’d rather live and make more mistakes than die and never get to make them again. This all happened in 7th grade. By 8th grade, I became Student Council President and was inducted into the National Junior Honors Society, receiving Distinguished Honor Roll for my academic success. Following middle school, I’ve continued to maintain Distinguished Honor Roll in addition to joining the volleyball team, volunteering in my community, becoming a member of National Honors Society and the National Society of High School Scholars, and being a better big sister to my two siblings (aged 13 and 7). When people ask for my thoughts on dealing with mental health at such a young age, I tell them that I am grateful for the experience. In fact, I’m incredibly thankful for my suffering because it taught me so much about my character and strength. From believing I wouldn’t make it to 2018 to now looking forward to my senior year in high school, I know I’ve made progress and am proud of who I’ve become. In retrospect, I am so glad I changed my mindset. Not only did I grow as a person from this trial, but I grew as human; my experiences and unique perspective will continue to help me help others for the rest of my life. Although the pain was real, and my soul was broken, the fact that I am now able to make a difference in other people’s lives is all I need for me to know my suffering was worth it. This experience has taught me how to understand and approach others in similar situations. My unique perspective on depression and suicidality in younger children is an advantage I plan to use to improve the world around me. Knowing that my pain can help someone else heal theirs inspires me to share my story!

The ultimate version of myself WILL have a close relationship with God, endless funds for philanthropy, a loving husband, free time for hobbies, a completely checked-off bucket list, and lots of friends and family to share my happy life with!

My life experiences have taught me that trials and tribulations are the best opportunities to grow. At age 12, I was admitted into a psychiatric institution because I had lost all hope. After struggling with undiagnosed thyroid disease, depression, anxiety, and ADHD, the doctors explained to me that my pain was not because there was something wrong with me but because my brain and body were sick. Initially, this information was hard to accept because I had believed the opposite for the past four years. Even still, I made it a point to change my outlook, realizing that I’d rather live and make more mistakes than die and never get to make them again. This all happened in 7th grade. By 8th grade, I became Student Council President and was inducted into the NJHS, receiving Distinguished Honor Roll for my academic success. Following middle school, I’ve continued to maintain Distinguished Honor Roll in addition to joining the volleyball team, volunteering in my community, becoming a member of NHS and NSHSS, and being a better big sister to my two siblings (aged 13 and 7). Looking back on my struggles with mental health, I don’t feel sorry for myself. In fact, I’m incredibly grateful for my suffering because it taught me so much about my character and strength. From believing I wouldn’t make it to 2018 to now looking forward to my senior year in high school, I know I’ve made progress and am proud of who I’ve become. My mental health struggles have helped me understand how to approach others in similar situations. With my unique perspective on depression and suicidality in younger children, I hope to improve the world around me. Knowing that my pain can help someone else heal theirs, inspires me to share my story!

My life experiences have taught me that trials and tribulations are the best opportunities to grow. At age 12, I was admitted into a psychiatric institution because I had lost all hope. After struggling with undiagnosed thyroid disease, depression, anxiety, and ADHD, the doctors explained to me that my pain was not because there was something wrong with me but because my brain and body were sick. Initially, this information was hard to accept because I had believed the opposite for the past four years. Even still, I made it a point to change my outlook, realizing that I’d rather live and make more mistakes than die and never get to make them again. This all happened in 7th grade. By 8th grade, I became Student Council President and was inducted into the NJHS, receiving Distinguished Honor Roll for my academic success. Following middle school, I’ve continued to maintain Distinguished Honor Roll in addition to joining the volleyball team, volunteering in my community, becoming a member of NHS and NSHSS, and being a better big sister to my two siblings (aged 13 and 7). Looking back on my struggles with mental health, I don’t feel sorry for myself. In fact, I’m incredibly grateful for my suffering because it taught me so much about my character and strength. From believing I wouldn’t make it to 2018 to now looking forward to my senior year in high school, I know I’ve made progress and am proud of who I’ve become. Now that I have recovered from this experience, I feel better equipped to help those who are in a similar situation. I now have a personal understanding of the thought processes that can flood your brain, the internal conflicts that can distract you from everyday tasks, and how to communicate and reach those struggling like I was. Because I have such a unique perspective, I want to do whatever I can to inform those around me of the signs of depression and suicidality in children and middle school students. As an older sister to kids in both middle and elementary school, I have the opportunity to share my understanding with their schools' administration. My perspective has helped improve the school district's mental health programs, and I plan to continue to participate in mental health programs in college. Knowing that my struggles with mental health can positively impact the world around me inspires me to share my story!

If I could have everyone in the world read one book, I would choose for them to read the Bible. My faith is incredibly important to me, and since I believe in Christianity and the birth of Jesus, I want everyone to be saved by grace. In my religion, we believe that everyone must accept Jesus in their hearts in order to go to heaven. And obviously, I want to make heaven as crowded as possible! Choosing for everyone in the world to read the Bible would be a good step in helping the world understand one of its many religions, and disseminating this book with the intention for people to read it allows every individual the freedom to believe its contents on their own accord, without being influenced by (well-meaning) overly passionate Christians. In this way, giving everyone in the world their own Bible would effectively spread the Gospel while protecting the populations' personal beliefs, as this action would not infringe on any rights, and every individual would have the freedom to read the Truth without feeling pressured to believe. Of course, I want everyone to follow Christianity because in my heart I believe that it is the only way to go to heaven. However, I also understand that everyone has the right to believe in whatever religion they choose and that forcing my religion onto someone else is a terrible thing to do. With both these things in mind, if I could give everyone on Earth one book, I would take that opportunity to give everyone a Bible.