Disclaimer: You know it!

Bluferret: Sorry the chapter's so long, I may split it up later for yall, I didn't have enough time today...Love ya!

P.S. I want everyone to be able to relate to this story in some way. I'm trying not to make it sound fake, unrealistic, anything but real. Please tell me if it sounds like any of the above! (Even real, just so i'll know that i'm doing my job!) Love Ya!

To my only reviewer: I totally agree with everything you said and i'll always be here to understand ya! (I just wish somebody would be there to understand me!)

P.P.S. Hey, you know how in books some charecters lives revolve solely around school? Well, not everybody's does. Some, like Lily, have two lives and two personalities. A home life and personality and a school life and personality. For example, she use to tell her mom anything and she'd understand, since they were in the same muck together. (Like a best friend.) But, with friends, she couldn't, because of the dirty laundry prob...(Like a mother and school. What a flip-flop, huh?) Just thought you should know a bit more about Lily and her life!

Floorboard's filled with baby toys,

An' empty coke bottles an' coffee cups.

Drivin' through the rain with no radio,

Tryin' not to wake her up.

Cell 'phone says "low battery",

God, what if I break down?

I'm just lookin' for an exit with a lotta lights,

A safe little interstate town.

Just a cheap hotel,

With a single bed,

And cable TV Is good enough for me an' Emily.

Some day, when she's old enough,

She's gonna start askin' questions about him.

Some kid at school brings his

Dad for show an' tell,

An' gets her little mind a-wonderin'

"Where's my Daddy?

Do I have one?

"Does he not love me like you do?"

Oh, maybe I'll find someone to love the both of us,

An' I'll tell her when she's old enough to know the truth.

Will it break her heart?

Will she understand,

That I had to leave?

That's what was best for me an' Emily.

That house was never clean enough his dinner never warm enough.

Nothing I did was ever good enough to make him happy.

So, I guess, he gave me what he thought I deserved,

But it would kill me if he ever raised his hand to her.

Big rigs are throwin' rain on my windshield,

An' I feel like they're laughin' at me.

Fin'lly the storm is lettin' up,

An' the mornin' is breakin' free.

It's a brand new day,

It's a second chance.

Yesterday is just a memory,

For me an' Emily.

Ah.

Floorboard is filled with baby toys,

An' empty coke bottles an' coffee cups.

Least there's one good thing that he gave me,

An' she's startin' to wake up.

Me and Emily Racheal Proctor

I hate this song.

I envy Emily.

I myself am still stuck in the house was never clean enough, the dinner never warm enough section.

The only thing is, he'll hit anyone except me.

No matter what I say, no matter what I do, he never does it.

Sure, he'll threaten too, but he won't.

He loves me.

I know this.

But, I hate him.

I hate him, for abusing mom.

I hate him, for being an alcoholic.

I hate him, for buying and selling selling numerous cars per year illegally, then gambling off the money he makes.

I hate him, for being selfish, arrogant, and perverted.

I hate him, for never hitting me.

I hate him, for hitting my brother.

I hate him, for going to bars, shooting pool, always getting into fights. and going to jail.

I hate him, for not taking his meds properly.

I hate him for changing her, from a nice person to a bitch.

I hate him, for talking to me like i'm four, every waking second of my life.

I HATE HIM!!!
I hate her too.

I hate her for not leaving.

I hate her for thinking it's because he's ill.

Newsflash mom, bipolar people are also known as maniac-depressive, if it's all the illness, then where the hell is the depressive side of it!?

I hate her for being such a bloody hypocrite.

I hate her for being so dependent.

I hate her for being fun one instant, and a out-to-get-you-bitch the next.

I hate her for always telling me i'm extremely important to her , then saying i'm worthless.

I hate her for overlooking everything I do.

I clean the entire bathroom, my room, the living room, half the kitchen, the dining room, and do half the laundry, yet she never fails to tell me i'm a lazy procrastinator, who lays on her bum all day.

Nice, real nice.

I hate her for being so damned depressed, when I already have that role.

I hate her for lying to me.

I HATE HER!!!
My half-brother A. on the other hand I haven't seen in five years.

He's my dad's son and as I remember he was a juvenile delinquint.

He shoplifted, he was in a gang, he was a bully, and a major troublemaker.

I don't know him anymore though.

But, from his past, i'll say he's been in jail a thousand times.
My other half-brother B., from my mom's side, lives with my grandparents.

Right down the street.

He's goth and you can totally tell.

(Not just from what he wears, what he says)

Were pretty close and basically have the same views about life.

It sucks.

We have the same views about parents too.

Their fucked up.

But, what do we know right?

Were just two kids living in our own private hell.

My grandparents are total control freaks, as well as clean freaks.

In a world of utter perfection my brother rebeled, becoming his goth self, how did they react?

They freaked, but life goes on.

From what I hear, my mom was like that too.

Only she went farther.

From what I hear, she went deeper though.

She was anorexic, bulimic, a cutter, disowned and way depressed.

I never would've thought...
My mom's side of the family except for my goth brother and herself is completely perfect.

Or so it seems.

Thier private lives are probably way complicated with all the secrecy going on.

I mean, if my private family is like it is, I can't imagine what the extendeds are like.

My fathers side is the most fucked up in the world.

For one, it's huge, there's an adoptive and a blood side.

For two, Evans is the most common surname seen on the jailhouse/prisonhouse listings, no lie.

Let's see where to begin...
Practically all the adults in the fam are alcoholics.

Practically all the adults and kids over thirteen are addicted to some kind of drug.

Coke, pot, meth, crack, you name it, someone uses it.

Everybody smokes.

All the kids have shoplifted for the hell of it, at least once.

Two of my cousins have been known to run away from prison.

An uncle and two cousins have been known to abuse thier girls.

A 'dear' uncle of mine has been known to rape young teens.

A cousin of mine has bulimia, unbeknown to everyone else.

I have two aunts and five cousins, with more than five kids each, all born before the mom's were eighteen!

My aunt Grace is suicidal, believe me, she is, I know, trust me.

No one else knows though.

My family is full to the brim with mentally ill nutjobs.

There is a party held at a family members house every friday, it's the kind of party you see on t.v.

The rock hard, bad-ass kind of party.

three cousins of mine have been caught acting as whores.

eight cousins and two aunts, have been pregnant before the age of fifteen.

The worst punishment anyone's ever gotton?

Simply a grounding, or short jail sentence.

With an occaisonal prison sentence.

Thank god, we aren't religous, because we are all going to hell.

Thank god, I'm only here for summer and holidays.

I can barely stand it now, let alone all year.
Oh?

I forgot to tell you?

Well, here it is...

I'm a witch.

I practice withcraft.

I'm not a wiccan.

I'm a blood witch, not a say-it-and-be-it kind of witch.

So you could say I get a break.

But a break isn't good enough.
I want them all to die and leave me alone.

I mean, yeah, in a way being bad is fun, really fun.

But it gets old.

Partying every night, getting drunk, stoned, and having sex, is not my thing.

I prefer to hurl, slice, and mope.

I once wished they would all die.

It seems to be working.

My aunts.

A few cousins.

A lot of second cousins.

My parents.

(Did I mention that I hate them?)

Sure, I feel guilty, but I know it's not my fault.

They died from, illness, suicide, infantry, and simply keeling over, no biggie, not the wish.

The family's just as big and loud as ever, anyway.
I've never told anyone this much about my family, before.

Why?

Like I said before, others are worse off then me and I know it.

Plus, I don't want to sound selfless and pity pleading.

(I do though don't I?)

Welcome to my fucked up family everyone, glad you could make it to my life.
By the way, FYI, IF, I'm not offended by the words 'gay' ,' retard', 'crazy', 'insane', 'mental', 'anorexic' etc. etc.

Like books and crappy movies say we are...

No one I know has ever burst out in tears, or gotton all huffy.

As far as I know no one else in the fam is bothered in the least by it either.

In all reality, we use the words everyday.

Not just in refering to a cousins real problems either...

More like teasing insults.
To the outside world, though, we are a perfect family.

Even to the extended family we are!

We know about thier problems, because they help one another when thier down, and thier not afraid of our judgement from others...

Thier not afraid to let others help them.

Mom is afraid.

She's afraid they'll judge us, if we tell them our problems.

Who are they to judge us?

I mean, look at them.

They are just like us.

The extends, that is.

All the damn secrecy, is killing us, ripping us to shreds.

We are dying, but no one knows.

Because, we seem perfect.

To everyone, we are perfect.

But in reality, we are everything but.

No, I am everything but.

There is no longer a we, and I know it.

I love it.

Being an I, for once.

I love it.

And i'm going to hell for it.

Welcome.

Welcome to the Evans family.