Author's note: Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story, im so thankful for Weatherbug02 and Turquisea's reviews, you guys rock...about upcoming updates: I have finals coming up so I may poof for a small time but I WILL RETURN
Chapter three (A day in the life)
Pound, pound, pound
Groaning, I nuzzle my penguin shaped pillow.
"Pound, Pound, Pound" my door growls again.
All is dark around my lavish bedroom…..
Well except for the faint glow of my alarm clock, that shimmers lime green.
Across the room, I can see it flashing to announce its three-fifty-five in the morning.
Three-fifty-five, a time that truly does not exist to Skipper Ivory Rey-I mean Roberts.
Groaning again, I roll over to ignore the door and the clock that says we may have to get up.
What on earth could that woman want from me now?
I mean yesterday…
Stacie and I, organized her twelve closets, putting each pair of shoes in according to shade, brand, and year!
Which was then followed by the same routine with her belts, hats and other accessories she could spot!
We then topped that off by making her power smoothies so she could work out with her glamorous friends…..
and when we thought she couldn't ask for more, she made us clean up the party she hosted for dinner….
Of course we weren't allowed to attend since according to "Dictator Barbie" we had to much work to do, and too much work needed to be done in "us"(us being Stacie and I), before she would see us at her dinner table.
At least Barbie loved Kelly!
I'm sure this is connected to my unmerciful tongue, that somehow manages to pierce the brick of ice otherwise known as Barbie's heart…. has something to do with why I'm not allowed to have supper or any other meal with Barbie.
But hey you know it must be rough to live with yourself after working your adopted "sisters" like slaves, that you as a "Hollywood Queen" might actually have to see them and eat an meal that they prepared with them…
Oh heavens we couldn't have that!
Life with this woman is so ridiculous!
Thank God, we have generous neighbors like Ryan and Raquelle or Midge and Alan, near by…
I think without their abilities to pity us, we would be rotting away to nothing.
And those organizing tasks I was talking about earlier, were just side jobs!…
On a daily basis:We take Taffy(our inherited golden lab) on walks, fold and press all the laundry, vacuum the whole home known as the Dreamhouse, dust all of Barbie's awards and paintings. Polish the silver from the seven china cabinets, change the pool filters(just in case Barbie wants to take a drunken swim when she comes tumbling in at the wee hours of the night), set the tables(whether or not were expecting company or even if we are not going to be allowed to sit at them), and act as personal servants to the great almighty son of a witch that still gleams as everyone else's golden drop of sun!
Then you add in normal care providing jobs, that even with now having an legal guardian I've yet to be freed of…..
Of course the lovely paparazzi is always there for us….
Ha, what a joke having people always watching you or your home, but yet always missing the big focus...
No, they don't ever see the marks from Barbie's claws, or hear her sharp tone when she's speaks to us.
Nor do the paparazzi never sees how she starves us when she believes were getting too out of shape, or the bruises she leaves after our brawls, or even how she nearly murdered our baby"sister" Krissy.
Which I'll get back to sharing about Krissy later….
Instead these vultures only see the images of perfect, that Barbie produces for them.
A beautiful young sister working hard to provide and raise her 4,I mean 3 younger siblings.
The whole situation with Krissy was she entered this world as the result of Barbie unable to keep her addictions or herself together and some lucky lad got himself hooped into that boat, and bam Krissy arrived from the heavens…..
And just like one of Barbie's many jobs, the government intervened and removed Barbie from the role that she thought she could just wing to the best of her abilities, without anyone saying anything…
But you know there's a one to many times that attempting to put your baby in a dishwasher because you want to go to Milan's fashion week and can't deal with the fact the world may stop seeing you as an image of youth, that may cause such an event to happen!
Of course we were left behind, due to someone believing she couldn't be possibly treating her sisters in such a horrid manner. …
Apparently Barbie just has mother issues, not big sister issues.
It was all just a major eye roll…
However, i'm glad that Krissy is being raised by her father Blaine. At least we know she'll have a happy childhood far from the clutches of her wacko mother.
Even though I think Barbie is a monster, I have to say I admire her for managing to keep such a shield around herself and the image she spends every second working on.
If, someone would of been informed years ago, that the greatest star on Earth, parents. were talent scouts and were looking for actors/models to fill the part of a happy family for their drunk and druggy who was having issues keeping her crap together on top of her bipolar-ness, I would of definitely acted out tremendously, because most days, I do not find any of this worth it at all.
Sitting on that plane in first coach with my sisters, what seems like eons ago now, and with pink studded pens in our hands, I never knew that signing my name on that dotted signature would have meant that I would be signing away my voice, my rights to have a social life, and my right to be me, all for a chance to have a "family" that was nothing more than an acting gig joke.
With that signature I gave away everything that made me who I was and had somehow agreed that I would play the part of the "lil sis" who wanted to be just like her "big sis" in every single way possible, from head to toe.
As if being her was desirable….
Barbie, to enforce this idea I hated most, coordinated a good majority of our wardrobes made us do sisterly activities which had lost their fun affect after we saw the true face of this monster, and she even,forced me to bleach out the brownish pieces of my hair, so they now shimmer gold.
And from there the "Barbiefication" has yet to cease!
Everyday is another opportunity to force her mindset and habits upon me….
Thankfully, I can take a few injuries to the extent that those horrid various shades of pink articles of clothing have yet to be seen on me in places that count most to what I value.
The hair dye thing I tolerate, but usually if i'm able I swap it out for black, which of course ends in more hell for me but it shows that i'm not done fighting for the right to be myself.
"Bang, bang, bang" Growls my door.
With the door rumbling again, I sighed tossing the blankets from me.
I really wasn't looking forward to see what she could possibly want at this ungodly hour, because whatever it was, it was more than likely unpleasant.
"So help me if she's waking me to go jogging or to ask me what I think of an outfit or something stupid." I would mutter to noone in particular, rubbing the cakey crust with my manicured nails.
Didn't she comprehend the idea of sleep or at least "Beauty-sleep"? as she called her own sci-fi like slumber, in that tanning bed filled with body preservatives. These preservatives Barbie claimed, would keep her looking young for eons to come..and I honestly do not know much about them other than they cause her to look like an alien at night.
"Coming." I would finally call out, rummaging around my nightstand, attempting to turn on the small lamp there.
Sliding out of bed, running a hand through my messy puffy curls, I trudged towards the door, wiping away all the sleep I could from my eyes, finding its supplies numerous and reluctant.
With the door opening, before I could even touch it, Ken strutted in, ruffling up my hair even more.
"Morning, what's up, buttercup!"
His chipper voice, agitating the sleepy monster that I was caused me to groan a bit, as I rubbed my blue-violet eyes more.
Doing a double-take, I made sure he wasn't just here cause he was drunk and was in need of a cab ride.
Since I know from previous experiences of Barbie's pals slugging through our halls in hopes to catch a ride or a way home.
"What do you want at this time of night?" I grumbled.
Laughing he ruffled my hair again.
"You mean morning!, and well her lady majesty says were doing a Christmas photo-shoot on the beach at dawn, so I'm here to escort you to your make-up trailer.."
"What about Kelly-I mean Chelsea and Stacie?" I ask remembering that Barbie changed my youngest sisters name, just pretty much because she thought it suited her better.
"She already has them on set,remember they were going out with Midge and her children for breakfast?" he reminded me.
Mumbling "oh yea" I stretched my arms out, feeling them pop with soreness.
"So lets chop chop, before we get chopped." he advised admiring himself in the mirror that hung on the wall, looking at every flawless feature he carried, knowing it would take me a few moments to get in gear.
Watching him, I smiled a bit as he complimented his reflection.
Physique wise, I could see why Ken was in love with his own image and why he was perfect to photograph next to Barbie.
Ken, was everything a man could hope to be: tall, great hair,muscular, handsome, and not to mention Ken was very charismatic and talented.
Everybody I knew admired him, and out of all of Barbie's "friends", I could honestly say he was the only one who actually deserved any of the praise he received
Tucking a brush into my violet robe's pocket, I quickly slid the robe on over my band tee and athletic shorts, knowing that Barbie would have a fit if she saw me not wearing my cashmere pajamas or at least anything fashionable in the shimmering world of fashion in which she reigned.
Ken after an announcement that I was ready to go, would then walk me out to his truck.
It was weird knowing that Ken drove his own vehicles and that he was just like me….
A pawn to make Barbie's life look more glamorous than what it really was.
What does it tell you when a pretty woman like Barbie, actually had to pay a guy to stay in her life?
Isn't that just sad?.
I was thankful for Ken because without him sneaking me fast food, sodas, and other goodies (along with a ear when I needed it), I swear I would of been way off of the deep end by now.
4 years of this nonsense certainly can change a person's ability to remain sane.
"So how does grabbing some Mcburger's sound?" he asked, the radio playing softly as I remained in a sleepy like daze, glancing out the window, unsure if I was even awake enough to be hungry.
"We won't be late?" I ask.
Turning to look at the clock, I smiled seeing he was willing to risk the threat of having to play war with Barbie just so I could enjoy having a breakfast that was not in smoothie or granola form.
"Not if their was sudden traffic on the highway that prevented us from showing up quicker." he smirked. Laughing he then glanced around the dead highway, before getting off on the next exit.
Smirking I ran the brush through my hair.
"Yea, traffic is just the darnedest thing! Too bad we also got stuck when we were really rearing to be on time to the shoot." I chimed in as we pulled into the drive through.
After ordering, two coffees, two orange juices, and almost one of everything else the breakfast menu had to offer us, we pulled over to dig in our grand feast, jamming to old school rock.
Spending like what felt like an pleasant eternity there, Ken quickly perked up, his eyes on the clock that warned we played around for too long.
This lead to him quickly starting his truck and racing like a madman to get us there, while I tried to keep my breakfast down.
Pulling up to the set, we quickly leaped out of the car, and bolted for our dressing rooms, pretending as if we had been there the whole time and weren't late whatsoever as other crew members and models shook their heads at us..
I, especially had to really pretend all the more, since Barbie was just about to my trailer when we got there.
Plopping into my make-up chair, Tish worked quickly knowing the drill.
Tisha Jean, was my saint of an hairdresser and makeup artist who actually tried to find things both Dictator Barbie and I could both agree upon for these photo-shoots.
Hearing those dreadful clicks from Barbie's heels approach my trailer door, I froze as Tish worked quicker.
Her manicured nails then rasped making us both cringe from the screeching noise they caused upon the painted violet tin door.
"Skipper, dollie, you about ready, hun?" she called out in a friendly tone, telling both Tish and I that the cameramen had already shown up and that we better be getting a move on if we wanted to stay on Barbie's good side.
Biting my lip I took a couple minutes trying to create the most happy and chipper person I could be as they added finishing touches to my hair and make-up.
"Of course, Sissy!" I call out sounding innocent and loving, doing my best to not roll my eyes as it came out.
In a matter of moments the costume/attire team, managed to get me changed into a indigo trimmed, black "surf-suit". Truly giving the illusion that I was never late as they practically shoved me out of my trailer.
Reaching the set, I found my sister's in matching outfits, with different colored trims as they chatted merrily, skipping rocks into the ocean.
After greeting them, I waited as the lights were adjusted, and as we prepared to start shooting.
Barbie, pretending as if we were one loving family got involved in my sister's conversations with one another, pretending as if she truly cared about them.
Trying to not roll my eyes in disgust, I glance around and easily spotted Ken.
He had a group of ladies swarming him as he came closer towards us, wearing only a pair of swim trunks, exposing his chiseled abs and pecks, proudly.
Announcing proudly that he was ready to get some rays and to feel that Malibu sunrise!
The photographers and the director smiled seeing that they could now get to work.
"Lights! Camera! Glam time!" they call out, getting us out to where we needed to be and preparing us for what would be an entire day of creating false happy memories for a card that would be sent out to people we did not even know.
Waiting forever after the photo shoot, Stacie and I took our boards and had a contest to see who could balance themselves the longest on these huge rocks we found.
As a big sister, I know I know, dumb idea..I'm suppose to be the role model….but sometimes I like being an normal thoughtless teenager as well.
Giggling and shoving one another, we were having a blast for quite some time, when the salmon sea witch herself graced our presence.
"YOU IDIOTS, GET OFF OF THOSE DAMN ROCKS, BEFORE I SHOW YOU HOW MUCH DAMAGE THEY CAN REALLY DO!"
Stacie, was quick to obey as her feet hit the sand with a gentle pffft and as her strawberry blonde head tilted in shame towards the ground.
I, on the other hand was not so easily moved.
"What is your damage? No one is around to see us, and its not you care anyways, so why don't you go back to your trailer and powder your-"
For a woman with twig arms, I gotta say, she has some horsepower behind her…..
"HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT I DON'T CARE! I CARE IF YOU'RE EMBARRASSING ME OR NOT!" she roared charging at me, before her hands repelled me from keeping my balance any longer on the board.
"Whoa!" I cried out, my feet worming in panic to find flat ground.
With the sand kissing my fallen body, I was thankful that I had missed the smaller rocks as I sprang to my feet.
After she shoved me, I scanned the area, before deciding it was on.
Before, I could make my attack back at her, the merry laughter of the director echoed, causing Barbie to return to loving sister mode as he approached.
Sister mode translated into her quickly twisting me so my back rested against her's and her hands now overlapped mine, refraining me from throwing any punches.
Digging her nails into my fist, her breath brushed my ear. "Smile….or perhaps you'll enjoy the rest of the week in the broom closet."
I honestly don't know what is wrong with me, but this didn't scare me, nor did it cause me to refrain from antagonizing her any further.
I guess in my past I had spent one to many nights in a closet, enforced by the great Barbie.
"At least i'd be away from you.." I smirked meeting her icy gaze.
And with that the world tasted like red and I was seeing in polka dots before they all seeped into darkness.