"Oh crap... I'm in big trouble now..." I think as my mom goes on and on about how "accidentally" shooting the gym teacher in the butt with an arrow isn't appropriate.
"Mom, I get it, ok? Just chill. It won't happen again."I say.
She looks at me with a face I don't recognize. "That's what you said last time. Damn it you're too much like your father." She says.
That makes me angry, "Don't you dare associate me with my father. That good for nothing bag of rotten slime doesn't deserve the snot of the bottom of my shoes, much less my being ASSOCIATED with him."
My mom does something extremely unexpected, she slaps me. "He loved you. He wanted to stay." She says in a voice so calm its terrifying.
I just stare at her wide eyed until she storms away. Heading back to my room, I open my journal and start to write about all of the things that have been bothering me:
Dear me,
I hope you are less pathetic than I am... but seeing as I know me, that's not likely. Why does life hate me so much? I mean... Dad left when I was only a few months old, all of the weird things that happen to me, My ADD and ADHD... not to mention dyslexia... The most pathetic part is that I am turning 18 in a two weeks and I have never even had my first kiss, not to mention a boyfriend... I suck... even mom thinks so... Caiden is the only one who understands...I hate my life...
sincerely, well, me.
I had thought shooting him would be funny... I mean, he was the one who told me I had great aim! But I guess everyone was getting tired of the jokes and pranks... tired of me. Heading to the bathroom, I start to braid my long, black hair. From all the pictures I had seen of mom and dad together, I looked nothing like my dad. He was tall, blonde, tan, muscular, even kind of mischievous looking in a handsome way... but no- I had to get my mom's looks, except for the fact that my hair is curly, we have the same blue eyes that are so lightly colored they look almost like glass or ice. My pale skin stood out like a sore thumb with my black hair and I was small, too small. I was only 5 ft 1 inch, and I can't even count how many times people think I will break something just by holding my books. Despite my being petite, I am actually very strong. My size gives me speed and agility, plus, no matter how much I try to convince him otherwise, Caiden says it gives me "elegance." When I have finished braiding, I snap a rubber band onto the end of my hair. Once in the bathroom, I put on foundation and heavy eyeliner before finally deciding I looked decent enough for school. Slipping into my light blue shorts and a white tube top, I grab a pair of flipflops and a belt, completing the look. I pull my braid over my left shoulder, like I normally do, and comb my bangs out one more time so that they hang over my right eye and tuck behind my ear in a way that gives me an emo hairstyle but didn't prevent me from seeing clearly. "I'm leaving!" I yell at my mom, and storm out the front door, grabbing a bag of poptarts on my way out. Sooner or later I make it to school and Caiden is waiting at my locker for me. If I were ever to have a boyfriend, it would be him. Even so, as attractive and sweet he is, I just don't feel that way about him... he is more of a brother to me. "Hey, Eden. Got your permission slip?" He asks as soon as I'm close enough to hear. "Damn. No... I forgot. Sorry, Can you do it, Cade?" I ask, handing him the yellow slip of paper we got for our parents to sign yesterday. He chuckles and quickly scrawls a perfect imitation of my mom's signature across the paper. "Thanks." I mumble, stuffing the rest of my stuff into my locker and walking with him to home room. After a long and boring lecture of school appropriate behavior, we finally end up on a bus headed to the museum.