Hey, I'm a Super Hero!

A Matter of Perspective

A/N: No, this isn't Lori Ellis, or DeadandBuriedGirlxox as I like to call her! Once again Lori, we find there is nothing you can have that I can't take away from you. This is the end of your lies, this is where I set all your readers straight. Because now they will see that the truth is...

A Matter of Perspective

by Trisha Spencer

"Good morning, Good morning! School day, school day! Rise and shine, Trisha!"

Ugh. Every day that woman wakes me with her stupid sing-song voice. She is so phoney, I can't believe how she keeps it up. She's probably thinking how great it will be once we're all gone and she has the house to herself, so she can sit around and watch TV all day.

"Good morning, Mommy. Thank you!" I say back to her, flashing her my million dollar smile. She buys it, and goes back into the hallway. I let my face fall into its natural snarl, and lie back down on my pillow. A few minutes later, I'm ready to get up and begin the day on my own terms.

I had that dream again. The one where I have a twin sister. So weird. I mean, you would think it would be the most amazing thing in the world to have someone as beautiful as me around all the time. I would probably just stare at her all day, and she would just stare at me. It should be, like, 200% total attention to me all day long. Except in the dream she's horrible, and not good looking at all even though she's my twin. Why would she make herself look like that? I totally hate her. I know it's just a dream, but I always wake feeling like maybe I really do have a twin somewhere. So gross.

"Get out of the bathroom, Caroline!" I shout as I pound on the door.

A few minutes later I'm in the kitchen, eating breakfast.

"Good morning, Princess!" my father greets me. You're probably thinking he's another phoney like my mother, except you're wrong. He's really like that, always happy, always smiling, always in a good mood. I hate him for that. My mother may be a total phoney, but at least she lives in the real world.

"Good morning Daddy!" I squeal as I jump up to kiss him. "Can I have fifty dollars?" My Daddy is rich. He owns a dealership, so I never have any trouble getting money for anything I want. Or even if I don't want anything. Just in case.

"Fifty? That's a lot. Let me see if I even have that much..."

"Arthur, don't give her so much money," my traitorous mother says. "You spoil her, you know."

"I'm sure she needs it for something important," my father says. "I only have three twenties..."

"Thank you Daddy!" I say as I snatch the bills from his hand.

"Well, um, yes..." he says stupidly, looking at his empty fingers as I tuck the bills away in my pajamas. "I suppose I can get to the bank today. I'll bring home some tens tonight, so we can make change..."

"Bye-bye Daddy, I love you!" I say, pushing past him and running upstairs.

Ten minutes later I'm washed and wearing one of my favourite outfits, the red and silver knit dress with the white collar and elbow length sleeves? So gorgeous. But enough about my dress because this is me time.

I sit in front of my makeup mirror and brush out my long, dark hair. So gorgeous, every other girl in school is jealous of my hair. I apply my makeup. I don't use much; I don't need any, really. But I enjoy lingering over this, taking as much time as I can.

"Tri-sha, you're going to be la-ate!" my mother sing-songs at me. I'm never late! One last look in the mirror, and I get up to leave.

I always walk to school. I know, you're thinking why don't I have someone drive me? Actually I have plenty of offers. Guys pull up beside me and ask me to get in with them all the time. I don't even look at them as I say, "Maybe tomorrow." It drives them crazy! Yes, walking gives me so much more exposure than accepting a ride with any one guy.