Can anyone hear me? I'm starting to fall..., chapter 1
Children depend on their parents for everything.
What would we do with out them? I mean most parents care for there kids until they are what...30? I had long dreamed for that life. The life of happiness. I never got that life. My parents...let's say they could care less if I was dead or alive. That's what it felt like. Everyday I got home from school, did my choirs, went to my room. This was all done without one word spoken to me from either parent.
Social life. Ha. That's if I had one. The last friend I had was when I was, hmmm, 5?
School was no different from other teens. Besides from the fact I had no friends. But who cares? You're only in high school for 4 years.
'You're there to learn...not socialize...' Were the wise words from my Grandmom.
Oh I wish she was here to see what I've become.
I'm a high school graduate...I'm proud to say that much. I have a 1 year old kitten. Otherwise I have nothing to be proud of. And no. I'm not a stripper or anything like what you've seen in other tales of a miserable life. I have a good job. Well the pizza place...is that good?
I'm studying to work in aestetics.
My parents decided to give me the name Mary-Elizabeth. Yes that's my name.
That's all you need to know about me.
So sit and and grab a box of tissues. This story is gonna turn sappy...
***
Ginger hopped on my lap as soon as my butt hit the couch. I sighed and started to pet her. "You are so lucky you don't have to work at a pizza place. My feet hurt," I whined to my cat. Her response was a purr and she began to rub against my stomach.
She jumped off my lap and ran to the kitchen.
'Now don't I feel loved.'
I heard her meow indicating she needed food. "Damn the piggy cat," I mumbled, sitting up. I walked to the kitchen and poured some food in her bowl and left the kitchen mumbling curses to myself for loving cats so much.
I'm gonna be a crazy cat lady.
My legs ached. My head hurt. I was just exhausted.
Time to have a 5 hour nap...
***
According to the world today was pick on Mary day. My head hit my pillow and the phone rang.
I groaned.
'God damn the racist God who hates my guts.'
I amaze myself with what I can think of when I'm frustrated.
"Yes?" I asked bitterly into the phone.
"Mary?"
"Yes," I replied. I'm the only one in this apartment that is human let alone named Mary.
"We have found a job for you. You are going to be working with the band AFI for make up. This is a very good postion for a student."
My mouth dropped open. I haven't even graduated!
Pick on Mary day has offically ended.
Mary-1
World-0
Suck on that bitches!
"How is that possible! I haven't even graduated yet!?" I questioned, my voice filled with happiness.
"Well, the bands manager had seen your work. They were in need of a new artist. He loved your work. You have to go to room 453 on Monday in the college to meet them. Congratulations." The person on the other end hung up.
Since when have I had good luck!?
What would we do with out them? I mean most parents care for there kids until they are what...30? I had long dreamed for that life. The life of happiness. I never got that life. My parents...let's say they could care less if I was dead or alive. That's what it felt like. Everyday I got home from school, did my choirs, went to my room. This was all done without one word spoken to me from either parent.
Social life. Ha. That's if I had one. The last friend I had was when I was, hmmm, 5?
School was no different from other teens. Besides from the fact I had no friends. But who cares? You're only in high school for 4 years.
'You're there to learn...not socialize...' Were the wise words from my Grandmom.
Oh I wish she was here to see what I've become.
I'm a high school graduate...I'm proud to say that much. I have a 1 year old kitten. Otherwise I have nothing to be proud of. And no. I'm not a stripper or anything like what you've seen in other tales of a miserable life. I have a good job. Well the pizza place...is that good?
I'm studying to work in aestetics.
My parents decided to give me the name Mary-Elizabeth. Yes that's my name.
That's all you need to know about me.
So sit and and grab a box of tissues. This story is gonna turn sappy...
***
Ginger hopped on my lap as soon as my butt hit the couch. I sighed and started to pet her. "You are so lucky you don't have to work at a pizza place. My feet hurt," I whined to my cat. Her response was a purr and she began to rub against my stomach.
She jumped off my lap and ran to the kitchen.
'Now don't I feel loved.'
I heard her meow indicating she needed food. "Damn the piggy cat," I mumbled, sitting up. I walked to the kitchen and poured some food in her bowl and left the kitchen mumbling curses to myself for loving cats so much.
I'm gonna be a crazy cat lady.
My legs ached. My head hurt. I was just exhausted.
Time to have a 5 hour nap...
***
According to the world today was pick on Mary day. My head hit my pillow and the phone rang.
I groaned.
'God damn the racist God who hates my guts.'
I amaze myself with what I can think of when I'm frustrated.
"Yes?" I asked bitterly into the phone.
"Mary?"
"Yes," I replied. I'm the only one in this apartment that is human let alone named Mary.
"We have found a job for you. You are going to be working with the band AFI for make up. This is a very good postion for a student."
My mouth dropped open. I haven't even graduated!
Pick on Mary day has offically ended.
Mary-1
World-0
Suck on that bitches!
"How is that possible! I haven't even graduated yet!?" I questioned, my voice filled with happiness.
"Well, the bands manager had seen your work. They were in need of a new artist. He loved your work. You have to go to room 453 on Monday in the college to meet them. Congratulations." The person on the other end hung up.
Since when have I had good luck!?
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