I know six things for sure.
1. Although in Maine I was tall, I am a midget in La Push.
2. My oldest sister called the good room so I have to stay in a room that smells weird with my youngest sister, who also smells weird
3. My mom is wearing a large rain poncho even though it stopped raining a few hours ago.
4. I hate rain
5. The house we have to stay in is a little cabin with many flowers, cat things and no cable.
6. I want to die.
Everybody in La Push seemed to be a giant, Native American beauty. Even the boys here are a bit beautiful. It's a very strange thought how a boy can be beautiful but they kind of are. I am not beautiful, which is kind of sad for a girl. In eight grade my friends did a hotness test, we wrote down our names and passed a piece of paper around. I ended up with two 6s a 5 ½ and one 7. I gave myself the 7. I like my eyes, they are a very bright blue, unfortunately I am the girl teen magazines have to write 'love your big body' articles about. I also like my hair it's long and thick, but it is an ugly orange-yellow pumpkin guts color. Now I'm glad my friends were honest (I stopped talking to Ms. 5 ½ though) but I gave them all 8s whether it was true or not. What's the point of being a good person if nobody else is!
I have decided I am going to be an evil person so everybody will have to be nice to me so I don't smite them. MUHAHAHAHAHA!
My youngest sister Kenzie then presented me with a plate of brownies. I could've been evil and tossed them on the ground and stomped on them, but she can make a damn good brownie.
The evil thing is not going to work out.
"Whitley! Feet off the couch!" The Mother yelled. Whitley is a positively absolutely with out a doubt the dumbest name any human being could give their offspring. Let me show how many ways Whitley can ruin a girl's life:
People call you Whitless. Or they just call you a faggot. Some people are more creative then others.
When you tell a cute boy your name, but you talk very fast it sounds like whip me. This makes the said cute boy to walk away qickly
Teachers think you're a weird European exchange student and try to say the name with an accent.
But back to what The Mother said. My feet had been stepped on, squished under my flabby thighs for five hours in a car, had twigs jammed into them because TPC (The perfect child or my oldest sister Ginger) had to borrow my shoes so I went barefoot through the woods to drag TPC's stupid, annoying, little idiot sausage-dog Bananas.
"I mean it Whitley!" My poor average-sized feet. I plopped them on to the ground but then I let out a yell.
"What? Did you step on my baby?" TPC asked. I don't know why we decided to name that beast when all TPC does is think of nicknames for it.
"The floor is cold." I told them. The Father threw is slippers from the upstairs balcony-ish thing. The Parents call it the den but it looks over the entire kitchen, living room and non-living room. I call it the non-living room was because we only went there in a zombie like state because it was 1. Morning or 2. It is an idiotic family meeting brought on by my neurotic sisters.
"Family meeting! Family meeting!" Janis my second oldest sister yelled. Kenzie started to scream and ran into her room. Poor thing, she's probably possessed by a demon.
"Why?" I asked. She grabbed my hair and pulled me into the room. I sat on a spinning chair. The Mother was still in her poncho, the Father takes up so much room he basically took up the entire couch. And because I am a fourteen year old woman I will not sit on his lap.
"Look, it's no secret that we are basically the only white family here." So far I did not like Janis's pitch. I have always considered my self Latina, even though the Mother is a stereotypical Irish woman and the Father is an obese Swede. "And I think we are going to have make friends very quickly unless we want to be shunned by everybody here."
"But what would be the fun in that?" I asked. TPC sent me a scolding look.
"It is very important for a developing child to feel accept in their environment." TPC wants to become a shrink for children. She had read more Raising Your Child Books then The Parents have.
"I know you aren't talking about me, I have developed into a C-cup and Kenzie will develop into a mountain goat if she develops anymore." Now TPC found this very offensive, Janis found it uncalled for, and the Mother is ranting about how horrible I was to Kenzie.
One large argument later I was sent to my room. The same room that Kenzie had run into and was now lying on the floor with every Magic Treehouse book we own covering her like a blanket.
"Would you mind being a mountain goat?" I asked her.
"Could I go back to Maine?" She asked me.
"Yes."
"Then yes." I enjoy her eight year old mind. She sat up completely ignoring the books falling to the floor.
"Where would a mountain goat live in Maine?" I thought about it.
"A zoo." She began to scream again. She hates zoos. She hates the idea of zoos. In fact I think the word zoo, the combination of the double o and a z just disturbs her. I lied down on my bed and had to listen to Kenzie's screaming.
"When a cow isn't conscious it's a cow is it really a cow?" Now Janis is one of the least likely people to do drugs but when she came into my room at seven in the morning, her eyes barely open and that mind boggling question it made me wonder if she was high.
"Ask a cow!" I told her. She wandered out saying:
"Kites aren't kites if you don't have them!" I then realized she was sleep talking and walking. I got up wrapped my self in my entire comforter (which smelled like cheese) and went to wake her up. The Father never likes to wake her up, but that's because she said how much she was in love with Sasgay or some random Japanese character and he thought it was hilarious. I shook her slightly.
"Wake up!" I yelled in her ear. Her eyes flew open.
"What are you doing Whitley! It's like seven on a Saturday!" She yelled. I wrapped my blanket tighter around me.
"Sorry I will be sure to let you wander aimlessly around the reservation" That made her freak out, the thought of her not fitting in completely horrified her. As if her pale white skin, and her platinum blonde hair didn't make her a freaking pillar of light in this caramel colored town. Caramel yum, I was super hungry. I found some salt water taffy in the poorly stocked cabinet but no caramel. That depressed me a bit so I curled up on the spinning chair and slept some more. I was woken with a flash.
"Morning!" Kenzie said. She had TAKEN MY CAMERA! MY CAMERA! DOES SHE NOT KNOW HOW MUCH THAT COSTS? OR HOW MUCH IT COSTS TO GET PICTURES DEVELOPED? OR HOW LOUD I AM YELLING AT HER RIGHT NOW?
"KENZIE! GIVE THAT BACK!" She threw it at me and ran away laughing. Great now I'm going to have a picture of me sleeping. I bet I looked like an drunken hamster. I sighed. TPC was already dressed and eating breakfast. I hate TPC sometimes. I really do.
"Whit! Walk Bananananana!" She said.
"I believe you named it Bananas. A terrible name to begin with, but you insisted on buying it and naming it so you should be able to walk it!" I told her. I was still wearing my spaghetti strap top with a fish on it and my plaid boxers. She sighed.
"I'm making an omelet for Dad!" She said. The Father was not aware of this so he was overjoyed. I put my camera around my neck. Now my camera is not a dinky little digital camera, or a lame slightly bigger digital camera but a REAL FILM CAMERA. But a REAL FILM CAMERA is rather heavy so I was going to have pink impressions on my neck for awhile now. I leashed the little beast, who by the way peed.
Now if you ever thought dachshunds were cute, you have clearly never had one that pees everywhere and thinks all of your Halloween candy is his. Does he ever bother the demonic eight year old? Or the neurotic beauty queen? Nope, it's ginger master (that is a very funny joke because her name is Ginger and she is a ginger. You can laugh now) has trained it to torture me.
Then I lead it into the woods. It was dark, and buggy. It really sucked, but I got a few good pictures. One of a bird behind a spider web. (It was freaking poetry) and another of the dog getting his ass kicked by a squirrel. I might get arrested for that for animal cruelty but I thought it was the funniest thing ever.
"It served you right." I told the whimpering beast. Speaking of whimpering beast, there was an actual one. Right in front of me.
A WOLF THE SIZE OF A HORSE WAS IN FRONT OF ME!
I froze, and Bananas peed then ran up my leg. I picked it up and pulled it close to my body. Oh please don't let me die holding a dog a hate. But the wolf hadn't killed me yet. It stared at me. It was debating the kill I think. I snapped out of my shock and got to my senses. I took a picture.
Snap snap!