A/N: Hey, i was reading Sam's blog the other day, nd in one of her entries she says that she pretends she goes to camp all summer because thinking about how there r actually bugs nd raccoons in her house makes her sad. Which got me thinking...wat does her house rly look lik. so tell me wat u think, o nd expect an update 4 'iAm Knocked Up' by the end of this weekend!
Disclaimer: These things r stupid. i own nothing
I hate it here. So much. I walk into my house, and of course it's dark. And sweltering. The electricity was shut off 2 weeks ago because nobody pays the bills, so no light or air-conditioning. As I walk further into the hall I am greeted with two raccoons screwing each other next to a dead potted plant. Wonderful. Just wonderful. I try to ignore their growls and moans of pleasure as I walk to the kitchen. I open the fridge and immediately recoil at the smell of long-spoiled meats and what used to be fruit, flies buzzing everywhere. I slam the door in disgust as I make my way tentatively up the rotten, creaking stairs to my room. I open the door and survey it. Well, there's a big hole in the wall where a window is supposed to be. The floor is littered with papers, food wrappers, and cat crap. There are blood stains everywhere. And there's a squirrel on my bed. Again. I chase it out my window-hole and sit on my bed, trying to ignore the fleas that jump around me, and think. Carly wonders why I never let her in my house, and why I'm over at her's so much. But if she ever saw the way I live, Spencer would call Social Services, and I'd be moved into some dumb foster home. I can't let that happen. I can't.
But despite the way I live, that's not why I hate it. I hate it because of her. She makes my life hell. When she's not drunk and beating the living crap outta me, she's drunk and screwing some other drunken stranger in her bed. And then, like some sort of messed up hazing ritual, she tells her 'date' to come into my room and beat me 'til I either beg on my knees for him to stop or 'til I pass out from pain, her standing in my doorframe laughing the whole time. That's how the window was broken. She was 'dating' a bodybuilder that night, and he picked me up and pushed me through the glass out my window. I still remember the searing, mind-numbing pain as I limped to Carly's apartment that night, my arm shattered. I told Carly fell down the stairs.
I used to love it here. I used to love her. She would tell me bedtime stories, kiss my boo-boo's, and feed me every day. But then it happened. Dad left one night, no warning, no good-bye, no nothing. That's when it all fell apart, the beatings began, and the love ended.
I hate it here. I hate my life. And I hate my mother.
A/N: So wadda think? plz tell me! i cant read minds ppl, i'll only no wat u think if u review!!!!!