a matter of maturity.

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((chapter 1))

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disclaimer: let's get real

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maturity: recognizing that the world is full of good and evil and that everyone and everything are capable of both, and then coping appropriately with this knowledge

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massie

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Massie drummed her perfectly manicured fingers irritably across the glass. At first, she did this out of nervous habit—one of the very few almost quirks she possesses that tie her to the moronic human race—but after learning that it positively irked the taxi driver, who had undressed her shamelessly with his eyes just shy of a hundred times since the airport—despite the confidence boost major that'd been—she's done it solely on purpose. She had to do something to hold herself together.

Do you ever feel like breaking down?

The drive from the Trenton Bar Harbor Airport to her "Aunt and Uncle's" house is just over an hour, but in Massie's mind, it seemed closer to twenty four. She never has been very good at entertaining herself—she's used to having people for that. But this summer, everything will be different.

Do you ever feel out of place?

Kendra, her over-the-top-polite-and-politically-correct mother, is on her sixth—er—seventh "self-cleansing journey." William, Massie's father, thought it'd be a smashing idea if he joined her. So, those two jetted off to a recently purchased private island in order to "christen" it together, as a family. And by together, as a family, he meant the two of them, not Massie. Because a terminally ill daughter really cramps their style.

That's not to say her parent's forgot about her. No, no, no. Kendra told Massie to wipe the confused look off of her face—it'd give her wrinkles. To this, Massie scoffed. As if she would live long enough to have wrinkles. Hah!—and explained it was simple. She was not coming, she wasn't allowed to come. Instead they decided to allow her to visit with family in Maine. They had family in Maine?

Like somehow you just don't belong and no one understands you?

This was news to Massie.

In fact, they do not have family in Maine, at all. The alleged relatives are a college buddy of her father's and his family. Just as Massie flipped a glossy page of Lucky, Kendra mentioned Massie was to call them Uncle and Auntie, Massie knew she might as well deport herself.

Do you ever wanna run away?

William and Kendra's plan was flawless, really, except for the fact that Massie would rather die than visit Uncle Jay and Auntie Judi in Maine for three months. Unfortunately, no one cares how Massie feels; no one pays attention to her, and no one appreciates her or any of the few things she does do. No one listens when she protests. No one notices when she disappears for hours at a time. Because if they can't see her dying, then maybe she isn't

Do you lock yourself in your room? With the radio on turned up so loud, that no one hears you screaming?

And just like that she was exiled from the lovely state of NYC to its antithesis in all entirety, Bar Harbor, Maine. So, here she sat, uncomfortable, sweaty, and absolutely livid, in the cab of a speeding yellow taxi, headed for hell.

Do you wanna be somebody else?

Massie reached into her Vitello Mordore Prada bag that had yet to be released in stores and grabbed her iPhone 3G. It's purple, thanks to Colorware. Unlike her teenage peers Massie does not consider the device her lifeline and losing it the pinnacle of her fears. Actually, losing it might even be optimal. According to Apple time, she should have arrived four minutes ago. She stroked the head of her dog, and only companion, Bean, before returning her hand to the glass of the window.

Are you sick of feeling so left out?

Just when Massie could no longer feel the pads of her fingers, someone opened the door she was leaning against, sending her flopping to the dust covered ground. She cursed blatantly before swiftly returning herself to her feet. And her mother said she needed to say in ballet to be graceful. Massie nonchalantly brushed off the back of her legs, eyes ready to offer the offender a patented death glare. The perpetrator was a pale-blonde whose hands shook erratically at her sides.

Blondie stood there lip locked, knees knocking uncontrollably, the frayed laces of her white Keds creating baby dust tornados at her ankles. Massie didn't waste a half-second before initiating her attack—the only thing she can be certain won't fail her.

Are you desperate to find something more before your life is over?

"What are you? A calendar?"

"I…I…I'm—"

"Claire! Claire? Honey, are you outside? Claire! It's time for dinner! Claire!" A voice calls from the house.

"Well, Kuhlaire, your days are numbers. You can go earn yourself a few more by paying for the cab," Massie was already strutting towards the front porch. She moved her porcelain hand to knock on the cheap, peeling, white door, but it flew open, missing her face by only a few centimeters.

"Claire, honey—Massie! Oh! Oh! Oh! You made it! Wow, you've gotten so beautiful. And so big! Oh! You've grown up way too fast! Your mother was right! You probably don't remember me…the last time I saw you, I was, well…you were three?...three years old! Come in! Come in! Come in! You're just in time for dinner! Now, if I could just find that Claire…"

Are you stuck inside a world you hate?

Massie blew by the prattling Judi, the door slamming behind her. "I'm skipping dinner. Where's my room?"

"Oh! I should have known, you probably ate on the plane, right? Well on your plane. How was the food? Better than commercial, I'm sure! You know, I actually heard they don't even offer a meal service on some airlines these days! Can you believe that? Of course, I have no idea if it's true. We haven't flown in years!"

Gawd, did she ever shut up?

"My room!?"

"Oh my! Who do we have here! Hello precious!" Judi continued to wail. Massie half-expected her to reach over and pinch Bean's cheeks just like the kooky aunt she was.

"And they let this little baby on the plane! Oh! Wow! Having your own jet must be so wonderful! I can only imagine! But, really, we haven't flown in years! The last time I was on an airplane was for my honeymoon! Can you believe that, honey?" she proceeded to cackle at her own cornball of a joke.

Luckily, Massie managed to stick her earbuds in after it become starkly apparent the woman would not shut up. Under normal circumstances, Massie would not tolerate this kind of behavior, but travelling had taken a bigger toll on her than she would ever admit and all she wanted was to go to sleep.

Are you sick of everyone around?

"…but, you really did make excellent time, you know!" Judi blabbed.

Massie glared at the oblivious woman. But before she could protest, she felt her lungs being constricted at a rate only matched by that of a star-struck groupie being touched—no kissed—by her favorite celeb. Apparently, here in Nowheresville, glares are widely accepted as invitation to envelope someone in a death grip hug.

No, Bean, we're definitely not in Westchester anymore.

"I'm so happy you're here, honey. And I want you to know, I will do anything and everything I can to help you. I promise, everything really will get better."

With their big, fake smiles and stupid lies, while deep inside your bleeding?

Well, that was unexpected…and completely ridiculous. Things couldn't possibly get better. Because no matter what it looked like, all things ever got was worse for Massie. Everybody knows that bad things happen to good people, but what people don't know is that 99% of the time good things happen to bad people. So maybe, just maybe, if she was a bad person then some good things would happen to her.

No, you don't know what it's like.

But the truth is, Massie is a good person. And you cannot change what you cannot control.

Welcome to my life.

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