Author's Note: This is actually a repost so some of you might have read it before.  This story actually started as a monologue for Louise but then I started getting ideas for the other characters as well so I decided to add them.

Disclaimer: Nothing and no one belongs to me.  Gilmore Girls belong to Amy Sherman-Palladino and the WB.

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"We cannot change anything until we accept it.  Condemnation does not liberate, it oppresses"
- C.G. Jung

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Sometimes I wonder if I did anything in my past life to deserve this kind of punishment.  Everyday it's the same routine- wake up, go to school and then come home to a screaming match between my parents.

I know I shouldn't complain.  After all, I lead a comfortable lifestyle.  I get everything I ask for and I'm supplied with enough money to do anything I want.  I've been graced with the privilege of being born a Grant.

But nobody understands what my life is like.  It may seem picture-perfect, but my life is completely screwed.  In the Hartford social circle, I'm just another teenage debutante.  Louise Michelle Grant- another spoiled brat that's going to end up as a trophy wife to some drunken bastard.

I look around my room and scowl at the world that is my existence.  Outside my door my parents are having another one of their arguments.  I usually wouldn't be home at times like this.  I generally want to avoid this kind of thing, but I don't care anymore.

I stand up and walk over to my window.  I have a view of the entire estate.  I can see the stables, the tennis court, the pool and the garden.  It all looked perfect -something that came out of a storybook- but it does nothing to clear my resentment.  It just makes me angrier at the fact that I can't have a normal life.

My eyes wander to my desk and then onto a book, which I had placed there earlier.  The Chilton yearbook.  I pick it up and start to flip through its pages.  I stop at 'G' and scan the page for my own picture.  There I am- smiling.  The smile isn't sincere though.  It's the smile I've been taught to use ever since I was born.  The mask that I put on everyday to hide my anger.  I look at the picture before mine and frown.  It is Rory Gilmore.

She is not one of my favourite people.  We have nothing in common and, I have to admit, I'm jealous of her.  The two of us are part of this world I have grown to hate.  By being a Gilmore, she is part of Hartford's social circle but she was not brought up like I was.  She has experienced the love of a mother, the love of her grandparents and she has the ability to contain a meaningful relationship longer than a week.  Her smile was flawless and genuine.  Her eyes, bright and full of life.

I glower at her for a moment before turning the page.  Most of the smiles were a lot like mine- falsely cheery.  It disgusts me to think that our parents have corrupted all of us.  I slam the book shut and fling it at the wall.  The sound is loud and I let a small smile creep over my face as I realize the heavy book had left a mark.

There is a knock on my door and I suddenly notice that the shouting competition between my parents is over.  I walk over and unlock the door.  My mother is standing on the other side if the threshold.

"The DuGrey's are having a ball," she snaps at me.  "Blake has brought his son home from military school.  You are expected to accompany us."  Before I can reply, she walks out leaving me alone once again.

I slam the door behind her and curse.  Damn these obligation parties- they're all so fake.  Tristan's parents will act as though they were glad their son was back home and everyone else will pretend they actually care.

I suddenly have a great need to throw something.  I glance around and grab the lamp of my nightstand.  I look at for a second and then hurl it against my door.  I feel a small sense of satisfaction as it shatters, its fragments littering my spotless carpet.  That lamp was a gift from my mother.  One of her pathetic attempts to turn me into someone I am slowly becoming.

At times, I just want to escape.  Run away from Hartford and never come back.  It wasn't impossible.  Rory's mother had done it and she seems happy.  But then again, I am not Lorelai Gilmore.  We may share the same initials but I will never be her.  I'm Louise Grant and I am trapped in a cage and I don't have the will power to break free.

Once again, I glare at my surroundings.  I hate where I have ended up in this world.  I loathe my parents for what they are and how they brought me up.  I loathe the fact that I know I will end up just like them.

I let out a deep breath and collapse onto the floor.  I have had it.  I break down and let the tears flow- tears of anger and resentment… tears of bitterness and hatred… tears of desolation and melancholy.

My cell rings.  I glare at it, waiting for the ringing to cease.  It doesn't.  I scream in frustration and get up from my place on the floor.  I grab it and throw it at the ground.  I watch as it hits the hard surface before it breaks into thousands of pieces.  That was the second thing I had broken today.

My parents will probably ignore the fact that I am on the edge of insanity.  They always ignore me.  To them, I am not Louise- their daughter.  I am Louise- heiress to the Grant throne.  As long as I keep clear in the public's eyes, I am invisible to them.  I had always tried to get their attention, but it didn't take me long to figure out it was a worthless cause.  I stopped caring a long time ago.

I stare at the ceiling for a while, wondering what it would be like to come from a loving, middle-class family.  Would I still have the same attitude I have?  Would I be able to finally know what it was like to be loved, or what it's like to love?  Those things I'll probably never know.

I sigh again and sink down onto the floor.  I sit there for hours until I finally accept who I am.  I am Grant.  I have been born to privilege and with that come certain consequences.

But maybe one day, I will escape.  I'll move away from Connecticut and do something with my life that will shock Hartford's influential families.  Maybe I'll make something of myself.  Maybe someday, I will be proud to be who I am.  Maybe one day, I'll break the Grant curse and form the happy family that I crave to have.

But until that day comes, this is my life.  And I hate it.  I fucking hate it.