The Not So Typical Life

Intro

Hm. I guess this would be the part where I introduce myself, and tell you every detail so you'll have a mental image of me in your head. Alright, I guess I can tell you a little. Names Cara, I'm Eighteen and a recent graduate of a queer little school in Southside Jamaica, New York known as Springfield High. There isn't much to tell you about my old school other than my best friends. They're the only real thing I have close to family outside of this shitty place I call home. My best friends, Dailah  and Jasmine are the best people on the fucking planet to be honest. They've been there for me since the day I started high school, and they did a great job making high school life, well... likeable. I didn't start making other friends till my sophomore year. That's when people actually started noticing I was more of a loner. Haha, I know exactly what you're thinking. They felt sorry for me, and you know what?  You might actually be right. You could also be wrong, we'd never know, because you, nor I can read minds. Anyway, I live in the lower west side of the Bronx,  a few blocks away from the iconic Yankee  Stadium. There isn't  too much over here either. All you hear about is people getting shot, Yankee games, hoes sleeping with other peoples men, women getting pregnant, fights about people owing each other money, and of course the dramatic people, who look to start trouble and get attention that they're not getting from anyone else. Like my neighbor, Mrs.Mirra who I like to call, The wicked bitch of the west. I hate talking about her, let alone even seeing her. So I'm not gonna get into that topic. Instead I'm gonna introduce my annoying, dysfunctional, yet somewhat loving family, The Clarks. First up would be my mother,  a middle-aged, hopeless romantic. Then there's her ugly ass boyfriend, Daniel. I fucking HATE him. He's a sarcastic fuck. I mean I am too, but he makes me wanna tie him up like a hog and hang him from a tree for the squirrels to live in. He claims to love my mom, but if I'm gonna be honest, I don't see it. He thinks he has my mom wrapped around his dirty ogre-looking  finger. But the bullshit excuses and lies don't add up. I tell my mom these things but, the only thing I get in return is a lecture about giving him the "benefit of the doubt". Again, still don't see it. That's why I've given up. That piece of shit my mother calls her man, is my little brothers father. My little brother Richie, looks identical to his father, with a hint of my mother in his eyes and nose. He's honestly my favorite in the family. Id do anything for that little boy, because there's still hope for him. Unlike my younger sisters. Ugh, now you're probably wondering why I haven't spoke on them yet. Sigh, here we go. So my younger sisters Yani and Sadie are in their last year of middle school, so, like all little kids growing up, they think they're hot shit. I've told them time and time again that they aren't but kids will always be kids. Sometimes I get along with them, sometimes I don't. It depends on my mom's mood, and how their day at school was. That's usually how you can tell what attitude they bring. Hence why I don't speak to them, unless I'm told to. I'm glad that this part of the story is over, because I hate when I have to run on and on and on about my life. Cause evidently no one nowadays wants to hear someone else's struggle if it isn't their own. I respect it though. Its called minding your business, something most people on earth don't know how to do, other than use common sense, which is in close second.