There has always been one too many screws loose in Caroline Xavier's head, but when she is tempted by Matthew Hayes all of her screws pop off and she is determined to get what she wants... Even when he is her history teacher and his wife is the prin...
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August 20th Saturday 4:55 pm
Caroline
One of the very many things that makes Patrick Bateman a respectable and honorable man is his self care devotion and impeccable skin care routine. I take note of that and devote myself every morning and night, I don't see it as a treat—- more so a meal that needs to be ingested or my entire body will give out.
I also like to stare at myself in the mirror, not just to grasp the concept of the power my beauty holds but also as a treat. Any person who comes into my proximity is blessed upon my presence and I see why not bless myself with the beauty of my presence.
As I finish my daily ritual after a shower, I put on a leather jacket over my white Skims turtle neck and low waisted black jeans and under-the-knee high white boots to compliment the white top in my ensemble.
"Shaun, I'm just not too sure she is ready for this yet—- I mean after everything that went down between her and Abigail and her other friends, what kind of parents would we be to just send her back out into the world and slap a bandaid on an open wound."
Unaware of my presence this dim-wad has his speaker phone on while speaking to my mother.
"Yes, I've had my doubts about her and the situation but you cannot tell me that our little girl is capable of true harm and destruction. Teenagers are always filled with angst and that Abigail is no Angel herself."
"SHE TERRORIZED AND SENT THE GIRL A PIG HEART."
"Erica, I can't do this right now. Use the rest of your lunch break to pull yourself together before your firm suspects you a mad woman... Bashing our daughter, be the change you want to see."
He hung up and huffed "what a fucking hypocrite."
"Hi Father"
"Oh hi babygirl, how much did you hear?"
All of it. Every god damn word spoken on that call I had heard. I'm not upset, in fact it's all true and my father is quite a piece of work to deny it all when the fact is standing right in front of him, the evidence is the new house in this new city that we just moved in.
"Not much." I've always been a compulsive-habitual liar.
"Good, you ready?"
I only nod.
We've been driving for what feels like hours but only has been 15 minutes; this is the third time my father has replayed one of his favorite songs. Put aside his dorky and dimwittedness he is a pretty amiable man.
"Did you stand there all alone?" "Ohh I cannot explain what's going down." "I can see you standing next to me, in and out somewhere else right now."
He pokes me with a smile and eyes cheering me on, "You sigh, looks away." "I can see you clear as day."
