Is it okay that I don't like any of the abundant amount of cds that I pull down out of my closet from a box clearly titled 'Colin's Music' in my mom's fine handwriting? That all I can find is Nelly and even more Nelly. Who said it was cool or even considered a profession, belting out lyrics in squeaky voices masked to be husky sounding , repeating long strings of rhyming words. Songs about girls, money, and bling bling. What the hell is that supposed to be anyways? And what if you don't like girls?
Is it okay that I hate all those clothes hung neatly in my closet or folded crisply in my dresser drawers. That it looks as if I've bought out the whole Abercrombie&Fitch trademark. What's with all the different hues of blue and pairs of washed blue jeans? And mostly, what the hell is Abercrombie&Fitch?
Is it okay that I'm starting to dig the black nail polish my sister Laynie wears? And not just her nail polish but most of her clothes too? Not that I want to be a cross dresser or whatever. I just like the colors her clothes are that's all.
And most importantly, is it okay that I like guys? Specifically, Ephram Brown?
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This is my first slasher fic so don't be too harsh reviewing! I kinda got this whole plot while I was cleaning out the pantry so it might be a piece of crap but who knows! Anyways, once I get a review I'll put of the first chapter!
Carla