The butterfly project

The begining

Who am I? My name is Kristina and I am 16 years old, I live in Waco, Texas. Along with my family.... Or so called "family" that consists of me, my younger brother Sam, my mom, my older sister Courtney, and my dad. To be honest I never really got along with anyone in my family..... To them I was considered "weird". But I find nothing wrong with me, I mean I was fairly popular at school... Ok that was a lie. Im the outcast, the weirdo, the psychopath if thats what you want to call me.  I attended Waco Texas high and as of this year I am a junior, next year will be my final year and I am trying to get into some psychology college in Arkansas. Yes you heard right Arkansas, I don't plan to be staying in this hell hole of a house down here in Waco. During college, I want to be as far away from my family as possible.... But I know that will never happen. Because I do have friends here in Waco.... Not many.... Ok that was a lie I had no friends. And my mom is always telling me to "make friends" but how can I do that when everyone I meet hates me?

"Kristina!!!!! Get up!!!! Its almost time to go to therapy!!!" My mom yells from the kitchen. My eyes fluster open and immediately stare at the white ceiling of my room. It was quite now and all that could be heard was the low rumble of thunder coming from my sound machine. I still lay on my bed one arm draped over my eyes as sunlight hits me right in the face of all places. I let out a low grumble and sit up on my bed. "KRISTINA MAYBER!!!! ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME??? I SAID GET UP!!!" My mom screams. "Yeah ok I'm up now" I reply too tiered to scream, I hear my mom mumble something but my door was closed so it muffled the sound. I drudgingly get up and walk over to my closet and open it and throw on a pair of black skinny jeans and a big baggy purple sweat shirt. I knew it didn't match but I honestly didn't care at this point I was too tired and too pissed at my mom to care. I threw on some old black converse without socks because why not? Then turned and turned off the sound machine then began the long grudging walk down the stairs..... Ok its not that long maybe 15, 20 steps, But in my head its more like 100. When I got to the bottom I stomped down on the floor and said "ok Im ready". My mom turns around with 2 plates of eggs and sausage in her hands. She sets them down on the brown wooden table and says "can't you be a little more presentable?" I grumble, cross my arms, and I stand there. My mom sighs again and looks at the clock. "Well we have to go in 10 minutes so theres no time just sit and eat." She pats the white wooden chair softly. I walk over to it sit down and start eating, she sits next to me and starts eating too. It hadn't even been a minute and I was already done, washing my plate and put it in the sink. My mom then gets up and does the same as I walk back to my room to grab my backpack. I open the door and throw my backpack on my bed and grab my sketch pad, pencils, color pencils, eraser and whatever else I usually brought with me to therapy. I zip up the backpack and fling it over my shoulder and walk back down stairs where I see my mom waiting by the door looking at her watch. She then looks at me and says "were going to be late... Again" I role my eyes and walk out the door and get into the light brown Santa Fe. My mom gets in on the drivers side, starts it up and backs out of our drive way to our old tan western style house. She turns onto the road and starts to drive away.