Life might be a bitch, but I can be a better one! Book one of:I am Not a Summer

Different

     I knew I was different since I had the first concept of what normal was. Normal, however, in my mother's eyes, was perfect. Perfect people didn't act like me. Perfect people didn't see ghosts, nor did they like to be alone. As I grew older I tried to put my differences aside to please my mother and father. I still tried after they got a divorce and got remarried. I still tried when we moved in second grade to the place I call home. But by fourth grade I was growing fond of my differences, and starting to realize how much I hate my mom, and my sisters agreed with me. But I still had my dad, and my little brother, and my twin sister and older sister. I also had my art teacher/ cheerleading coach and her kids to make up for my mom. But fifth grade was when I started falling apart.

      I tried alcohol, I started reading rape and murder stories, I snuck into rated R movies, but still, everyone else's eyes were blind to my tricks. Then I was always being compared to my barbie doll twin. My older sister joined the army, she turned more adult like and started siding with my mom against me. My dad was still nice, and my step mom was okay, but my dad slipped a disk in his back while at work as a police officer, and had to retire early, which meant my mom would get less money from him, which gave her another excuse to scream. My mom screams at me all the time; sometimes there's reason to, though. But I can't cry anymore about her. I don't care about her anymore.

     Then the most horrifying thing happened. Everything I had left was taken away from me. My home, my activities, my friends, my school, my happiness, my town, my state, my life, all gone. We moved. This place is cold, dark, rainy, and lonely. Not metaphoricayl, it is seriously dark all the time because of the rain clouds. My new school is 3 times as big as my old school, yet I haven't found one friend as wonderful as my millions of friends at my old school. They put me in a 8th grade math class as a 6th grader, and my teachers are sort of nice. But I'm slowly crawling in to a turtle shell. I've cried almost every night I've been living here, and we moved here 6 months ago. I met a girl named Emily. She's a EMT, and she's sixteen. She parties, and smokes, and drinks, and has piercings and tattoos, and a crazy boyfriend, but I love her to death. She is truly the only person I have left in this world that can make me truly smile.