A/N: This is so random. I will have an inanimate object from each character every so often. I am writing this as if the object is talking.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Part I: "The Back Of Marissa's Right Hand"

I've led a tough life.

I've had so many hardships ever since I became a part of Marissa Cooper.

When Marissa was five, she put me in the toilet because she thought "that's where the fishies lived." I plunged deep into the toilet, looking for the "sharkies" and the "goldfishies." Yup, she was a dumbass back then too. Nothing's changed really. She puts me in the worst freakin' places, I swear. She has no respect for the hand. She'll see though. I believe in Karma, all the way.

When her mother would yell at her for wearing her hair the wrong way, I was there to wipe all the tears away. The bitch would always cry. Too straight, too curly, too this...I didn't know there were that many ways to do your hair. Wrong. One day, when she had it "too curly" she burned me on the god damned iron. Of course, I was holding her hair in place while she used the iron, and then ahhhh! She clipped me right on the hand. She started screaming, because of course, there is no skin to protect my bone. I'm surprised the skin didn't fall right off. I felt like I was melting into the depths of hell.

Marissa eventually grew up and I was put into even dirtier places. No, not like that, so get your mind out of the gutter. We went to more and more parties and bam! My little friends above me,
five fingers, were suddenly going down her throat. I, fortunately, only had to endure the opening of her mouth but ew. Do you know where Marissa's mouth has been? Didn't think so. All the vodka she drank the night would come up, along with the freakin food. It was disgusting, and no hand should have to go through anything like what I did. Luckily she washed me after that.

Then came the booze. Marissa can't handle booze for shit, and every time it tastes bad or goes down the wrong way, I'm right there on her lips making sure it doesn't come back up. Damn it,
just leave me be, dangling all the way down here. It's like, she thinks that if the vodka burns her throat or something, that I'm gonna stop all the pain! I can't stop it, you dumb bitch! I can't! I'm sick of being treated like some sort of guard, to stop all the alcohol from dripping out of your mouth! UGH!

I've been held by a lot of people. For a few years, that jackass Luke hung onto me. Of course, he was found out to be hanging on others and so I never saw him again. And yeah, that led to the little incident in Tijuana. Oh my god, that was the worst night of my life. The girl would not stop.
I kept going back up to her mouth, helping her drown pills with tequila. Then she had the nerve to plop down in an alley and get me all dirty. The nerve, I tell you. The nerve.

Sorry, I go off on tangents sometimes. So then, I meet this Ryan guy. He has a nice, strong hand.
Different from Luke's. Luke always had sweaty hands. Ryan's hand was soft. Never sweaty. I thought that maybe, just maybe, Marissa finally realized she should treat me better. Nope, Ryan left too. To go hold someone else's hand and someone else's baby!

And the story begins all over again. The bitch just can't keep a guy for longer than a year. And ew, I even touched that guy Oliver's hand, and he was waving a gun at Marissa. I really just can't take it anymore.

You probably didn't think the back of a hand, let alone a hand, had this much to say. Well, I did.
And still do. This summer sucks.

Thanks for listening.