where is my hero? looks like im on my own.

"Shut up please!"  

all I want is quite and that doesn't seem like it was going to happen any time soon. Oh what a great way to start off the day, don't you think?

"Get your ass up now Emma, or I will make you regret the day you were born!" 

hummm don't you just love your parents sometime?

"I'm not kidding!" 

I could care less if that woman gave birth to me. I despise her. With all my being. Great... I sat up and looked around my semi messy room. My purple walls stared back at me as if daring me to do something. The light blue drapes hung over the windows. Thank god the blinds were keeping the sunlight contained. If you haven't already guessed, I am not a morning person. But then again that screaming lady downstairs is. 

"Emma are you up yet?" 

Oh joy she's yelling again.

"Yes mother!" as that word came out of my mouth you could hear the sarcasm drip off of every salable. I threw my white down comforter off of my cold body. With my feet firmly planted on the tan carpet I stood up. I'm way to tired for this I though. I started to make my way to my bedroom door. I walked past my mirror on the wall only to see a short girl with messy brown hair. Yay! Bed head. As I made my way towards the bathroom door I smelled food. Wait now, don't start thinking that my wonderful mother made me something to eat. Nope that never happens. She makes herself food and leaves the mess for me to clean up. Now I'm guess that in your head you're thinking oh that's not too bad. Your mom wakes you up and she doesn't make you food. Boo hoo. Well that's not it. I failed to mention the nights where she doesn't come home, and the nights that she does, she always has some nasty man on her arm.

She really doesn't think to highly of herself. What a shame. Oh well her issue not mine. All I have to do is put up with the perverts every other day. As I step into the bathroom the first thing to meet me is the cold tile floor. That wasn't the bad part. No the bad part was the harry fat guy sitting on the toilet naked.

"Ahhh what the fuck?!?!?" I screamed as I slammed the door as quick as I could manage.

"What's with all the commotion?"  

I heard Jenna yell from down stairs. And by Jenna I meant dear old mother. And when I said old I really only meant 36 but that's beside the point. She was only 18 when she had me. And as far as my father goes? Let me know if you find him. Anyway back to the naked man and mad mother... I walked down stairs as fast as I could without tripping on my own two feet. To say I'm clumsy is a understatement to say the least.

"What the fuck Jenna? There is a naked man in my bathroom on my toilet. How do you explain that one?" I was beyond mad at this point.

"Oh that's john. I told him to use my bathroom he must have got confused. I'm sorry. Oh by the way pick up the dirty dishes. John and I will be out for most of the day so find yourself something to eat in the fridge."  

Just as those words left her mouth that disgusting man walked into the room. He looked to be in his late 30 and slightly balding. That's a surprise considering all the hair that I say on his back and on his chest. Eww.  

That man they call John stopped in the door way and was staring at something. It took me a while to determine that the "thing" he was staring at was me. I hadn't realized that I was still in my pajamas. And by pajamas I mean a sports bra and short shorts.

"And what the hell are you looking at?" before I even knew those words left my mouth I felt a sting go across my right cheek.

"Don't you dare talk to him like that Emma." Was this lady serious? My own mother just slapped me because a nasty old man was checking me out. How did that make any sense at all?

"It's not my fault that you walk around this house looking like a slut now is it? You think just because you're in school and you're smart that you're better than me don't you?"

Is this lady crazy? How did she get from yelling at me to wake up to calling me a slut? I don't ever understand her. As I looked up from the ground I noticed that she was walking closer and closer to me again. I just shifted my gaze back down to the tile floor. I could hear the floor squeak with every step she made. Now this was normal for me. She would get upset and go off rambling about something that I achieved that she never got the chance to do. Just because she was pregnant and dropped out of high school. Now whose fault is that? The routine is she slaps me once or twice yells some more and walks out the door, but this time I had a bad feeling.