Do you remember me? (A short story on hold)

My sister, the slut

I put my feet on the couch and switched on the TV. Ahh, MCR weekly was on. Katy walked in.

"Move over. I wanna watch Nicki Minaj and the seven hoes." she kicked me off the sofa and grabbed the remote.

We had been fighting like this for years.

"Dad hates that show!" I screamed and ran out.

I missed him. Everyone did. Apart from Katy. The slut couldn't care less. I ran into her room and grabbed her diary. Some off her entries were going on Youtube.

"Dear diary, today Connor put his hand on my boob.... Eww.... Um.... And then Harry did the same. On the other boob....EWWW!" I shouted way to loud.

That would make a great video, I thought as I pressed upload.

"MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" the screaming from downstairs nearly busted up my ears.

Mum and Katy came storming up. 

"Why did you put that on the whole wide web?" mum screamed and hugged Katy.

Of course, being the youngest, her cute smile made mum even more angry at me.

"Don't worry mummy, he was just having a little laugh." she cuddled up to her even more.

Eww. I wish dad was here to stand up for me. I stormed back into my room and slammed the door. I looked up at my Amy Trunch poster. She was my favourite in the new Tv series "Waiting for Jake". She played Lu. I flicked my black hair.

"Hey sexy!" I smiled into the mirror.

"Hey ugly!" Katy walked in.

Ugh. Forgot to lock the door. I pushed her out.

"GET LOST!" I screamed.

"Ohhhhhh... Amy Trunch luuuuvvvvveesss you!" she giggled and ran downstairs.

Poop. I locked the door and sat on my bed with my laptop on the end. I turned on Youtube. What to listen to? Oh I know! American Ididot by Green Day.

Don't wanna be an American idiot.

Don't want a nation under the new media

And can you hear the sound of hysteria?

The subliminal mind fuck America.

Welcome to a new kind of tension.

All across the alien nation.

Where everything isn't meant to be okay.

Television dreams of tomorrow.

We're not the ones who're meant to follow.

For that's enough to argue.

Well maybe I'm the faggot America.

I'm not a part of a redneck agenda.

Now everybody do the propaganda.

And sing along to the age of paranoia.

Welcome to a new kind of tension.

All across the alien nation.

Where everything isn't meant to be okay.

Television dreams of tomorrow.

We're not the ones who're meant to follow.

For that's enough to argue.

Don't want to be an American idiot.

One nation controlled by the media.