Parties Get Dirty- Just Don't Die

Chapter Two-My Mother Is A Repulsive Slug

I know the first chapter didn't have much...but i promise that will change. i will change this story to the action category as soon as i get some ideas. any ideas, comments-good or bad-, or suggestions are appreciated.

ps please don't advertise your own stories in my comments...such things shall be deleted. sorry :(

I love all my readers. Virtual x's and o's. I will upload a chapter 2-i just need ideas...

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ok, so... here goes. i am writing as i go, no ideas or anything. but i will atttempt to make it interesting.

i keep having to change the categories/ genre of the story.

please comment, vote, and fan  <3<3<3

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chapter two

I got a swan gold and white feathered mask with ostriche feathers and a swan crown to the side. Janie got a Columbina Royalty Venetian-inspired gold and black lace mask. Hers was $195, mine was only $115.

We were so hot, we would, of course, dress up and gawk at ourselves in the mirror hours on end every day. We're girls, that's what we do. Be shallow. You may be thinking that you're not, but how many times do you fix your hair evey day? Or glance in the mirror to make sure your makeup isn't smudged? Yeah, that's what I thought. We are all shallow. It doesn't make us bad, it makes us girls. Human.

One of these days, after we got back in our regular jeans and tank tops, I left the outfit on my bed. What's the big deal? Clothes. I know, I thought it was unimportant. My parents are nonexistent characters in the drama titled my life. I see my dad more in tabloids than in real life. My mom doesn't care about me enough personally to go in my room more than twice a year anyway. 

But she would. Come into my room, I mean. When the outfit for-the-party-of-the-year-that-I-am-not-allowed-to-go-to-ever-in-my-life-even-though-I-will-go-anyway-because-she-doesn't-know-anything-about-me-so-she-wouldn't-notice-that I-am-gone-anyway is laying on my bed.

How do I know this? I'll tell you why. Well, actually, my mother will.

"Angelina!" she screamed from upstairs. "You get up here right now and explain yourself, Miss Ungrateful!" I had been napping on the chaise with Vogue sitting in my lap.  She woke me up.

"Mom, I'm coming. Just a minute. Shut up." I whispered the last part and rolled over, closing my eyes again.

She click-clacked down the stairs. I opened one eye. She was holding my dress and mask in one hand, and the boots in the other. I closed it. Wait, my life is over. Open the eyes, sit up, grab for the shoes.

"Uh, uh, uh. I don't think so." The thing is, my mom acts like an annoying big sister most of the time. "Why do you have these?"

Lie. "I went shopping with Janie."

She nodded her head, went down the stairs, slowly, slowly, mocking me, shaking the outfit as she went. "Honey, you have to learn to lie better than that. The gene must have skipped you. Whose party?"

"No one's party, Mom." I grabbed the dress out of her hands.

She started pacing. She nodded her head. She bugged me when she was like this.

"Ok. You can have the dress. You can keep the shoes. You can even claim the mask. But you're not going to the party." She stopped pacing. "If you argue, I will call Jane's mom and have her banned from the party, also. Any objections?"

You can't keep Janie home. You're not her mother. Bee-otch.

"Ok. whatever. You know, Mom, you just ruined my life." I made a show of stomping up the stairs, dragging along the bandage dress.

"You know you love me, Angie," she called up the stairs.

I stepped down a few stairs. I couldn't see her face, and she couldn't see mine. But she could see my irate finger. "Sure I do, Mommy." I went up the stairs.

"Someday you'll thank me for this," she yelled. As if.

"Whatever, repulsive slug." I would have used more colorful language, usually I could call my mom something much more creative, but I wasn't all that mad at her. If I was a good kid who listened to mom, I would be very mad. But I am me, so I won't worry about it.

I'll sneak out. Not like it'd be that hard. My mother will be out or sleeping or throwing a cocktail party or something equally retarded and non-motherish.

She'll never know. She's too blind.