Diary of a teenage b**** | ✔

Four

I wish I could fill these pages with lies, of how my life was so crazy and spontaneous, and whatever, but it wasn't, I was the girl who had to spent her day studying as soon as she got home, because if you didn't know everything you were to be taught the next day, it would show negligence and laziness, and that wasn't tolerated and you'd have to deal with some sort of punishment or embarrassment. You needed to know the work your teacher was to teach beforehand which meant you needed to at least go over it at home, and for some kids it were easier as they just skimmed over the work and would be familiar with everything and just know when they came to class, but for me I blanked out – this sounds like an excuse which they didn't tolerate too, I didn't do well under pressure, which was why I had to ensure that the work I was to do the following day I had gone through thoroughly and was solid in my head.

This was not an easy task, because it took a lot of time, and who liked spending so much time doing their work that they had no time for anything else after

This learning method required me to learn everything like my ABC's, by that I meant I had to memorize the work and say it over and over in the mirror till I had built up enough confidence for the next day.

Sometimes even that wasn't enough as some days were not nearly as the same as the rest, like for example when I stuttered because my mind process was too slow for whatever the teacher had asked me, the worst part about that wasn't the teacher's looks they gave you; the look of disappointment when your stuttering was an indication to them of poorly prepared work, it was the looks, the looks of people who stopped whatever they were doing just to look at you

Which was why the remainder of my teenage years were spent studying; all the studying didn't make me smarter, it just consumed me, my time an energy- until I had no space for anything else, for what? For an office job, three kids, a husband to argue with and my body the new location for stretch mark central

Maybe that was just my negativity speaking, and who knew what would happen in ten or fifteen years from now, that didn't mean I should have just given up, instead I needed to change my mindset by changing my goals first, by making them shorter termed for one; like finishing high school

I was almost done after all – I assured myself

I didn't like Danbury it wasn't new knowledge, not because of the people, but because of the standards, the teachers, and the amount of corruption and mental toxicity that seemed to take place behind those walls

I didn't know it then of course

Sure there were assholes, what else you expected when you went to a school filled with the richest kids on the block

''Idaliah, come on down'' mom called

I closed my notebook, sliding a pencil in so that when I came back to the work I would open up my book on my unfinished homework

Mom was in the kitchen, unpacking groceries out of the bag into the cupboards

''help pack out the groceries would you'' mom said gesturing to the garage

I nodded, making my way to the garage, slipping on Dad's shoes, my non – biological dad

The thing about the dad title thing was a bit crazy but I knew Hubert since I was 7, and I couldn't call him Hubert that would be disrespectful as I was so young, I couldn't call him uncle either because that would be weird, like was my mom making out with my uncle, so the best alternative was dad, it had never caused conflict with my real dad and my non biological dad as the two of them were never in the same place at the same time, and if they were, they were never in eyesight or ear sight of each other, -, not because they resented each other they just didn't see the purpose of being friends

Even my parent's marriage story wasn't interesting; there wasn't some crazy divorce story, or a tainted love story, just a divorce, quick, short and thorough, how divorces were supposed to end

Mom and dad were happily divorced; they didn't stay friends, but they weren't exactly enemies either

The years had gone and I had watched my parents go from married to acquaintances with the only thing they had in common; the kids that they had made