Do you think this short story is well written?

A news broadcast blared on every T.V in the country as it reported a letter found written by a straight “A” honor student.

  "I remember like it was just yesterday. My favorite pet, Deamon, a small black and white cat had vanished. Youth and innocence consumed me so Deamon meant everything to me; he was my best friend. Heartbroken I dragged myself to my mother pleading for her to find him. Her lips pulled into a weak smile as she spoke, " Honey he left with his other cat friends to adventure the world. He will return someday." Several years later as I dug in the backyard I found a black garbage bag containing his dead corpse. ' He will return.' 

   Every year parents got children to behave, got me to behave or else they wouldn't receive gifts on Christmas day. I worked feverishly for 365 days on all my chores. I never fought with my sisters in hope I would get a wonderful surprise on Christmas morning. Like clockwork I did. One Christmas eve I woke from my slumber sleep hanging on my eyes. The sun still laid at rest but I couldn't and thirst drove me to the kitchen. Instantly I was struck with horror at the sight of my mother placing neatly wrapped gifts under the tree. She looked at my and spoke softly, " Honey Santa is very busy this year so he left the presents with me to put under the tree. He will be back next year I promise." A year had passed and I eagerly awoke to see Santa putting gifts under the tree, but like the year before I was left in horror. 'Where was Santa?' 

   A downpour of rain fell to the earth as me and my father walked out of the brick building together. Many nights my parents spent their time yelling and screaming at each other as my sisters and I sat in terror. Some days I would approach them and ask why mommy and daddy were being so mean to each other. Why they called each other such hurtful names, that at the time I couldn't comprehend. Moments passed as the pondered what to tell me. They tried formulating their words in the best possible way in hopes of not upsetting me. After what had seemed forever the said, "Honey we love each other very much but sometimes this is how adults need to discuss their problems. Don't worry everything will work out." Now after several months I rode alone with my father to a trailer in some barren desert as mom drove my sisters back home. 'Things would work out.'

   Years had passed, ages of experience had worn on me and I was becoming a young woman. I sat in my class as my teacher had lectured about domestic abuse. Vivid images flashed wildly throughout my mind; my father chucking a knife across the room rage bubbling out of every pore. A chair flying pass my head as his voice boomed over me. His razor words slicing at my flesh leaving permanent wounds. A pressure on top of me suffocating me leaving me breathless. A pain inside me that I prayed I'd never have to feel again. Tears trickled down my face and everyone's parading eyes latched onto me. My teachers voice rung through my head as she asked, "Honey are you alright?" A tired smile pulled itself across my face as I replied, " Yes I am perfect. Everything is fine. Days later my father came home hovering above me with alcohol on his breath leaving me with the pain again. Soon blood ran down my arms. 'Everything will be fine.' 

   Not long ago his lips pressed against mine while a flurry of butterflies danced in my stomach. My youth still with me but my innocence had long passed. This man I found was my everything; he meant more to me than my pet Deamon ever could. The world would disappear as I laced my things with his falling into an oblivion of love, and passion. His angelic voice would soothe my darkest thoughts. Every moment my mind was thinking about him…soon he became distant. His eyes would never come into contact with mine. I questioned him, my lips forming words of worry asking if something was wrong. Then I say, that familiar smile and those familiar eyes. The smile I had seen my entire life and he said, "Honey I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you. Nothing is wrong. Everything couldn't get better." A week later I arrived at his house for our one-year anniversary dressed in my best for him. I walked into the room and immediately was driven to tear as his limp body hung from shoelaces tied around his neck. 'Nothing was wrong. Everything couldn't get better' 

   Above the sun beamed brightly. It was my last day of education. All those years I spent with all those people would finally end. My friends came to me weeping in joy because we could move on with our lives. I stood there though; not shedding a tear for I had shed tears my entire life. I stood there emotionless. My friends poked me, tried to tickle me all attempting to find out why I wasn't as full of joy as they were. My eyes darted away and a wicked smile pulled on my face as I spoke quietly, " I am happy, why wouldn't I be happy my life is perfect." Later that night, right now, I sit here writing to tell you that nothing is ever fine. Nothing will ever be fine but it will end. Everything will end."

   The news caster spoke precisely almost emotionless and said, " last night a young women, a student who had just graduated top of her class, had committed suicide last night and everyone will morn her death." A week later not a soul could even remember the girl's name.