Day One.

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Friday November, 26

6:30 p.m

I swear, if Amber, (my seriously annoying sister) and Jack, (her seriously annoying man-whore of a boyfriend) don't stop making out in front of me, I'm going to slam their heads into the wall, and laugh as their noses bleed all over their seriously annoying faces.

6:40 p.m

This is pissing me off. I swear, the man across the street is masturbating to their love tunes. Lemmi check.

6:43 p.m

My eyes need to be washed out with soap!!! That old dude, Mr. Old-Dude-Or-Something, was mast-errrrb-atting to the noises. I looked out my window.

6:50 p.m

Ok, so far, I've had you for a total of 23 mins. and all I've talked about is my sister and her boyfriend and the creepy dude across the street, so let me introduce myself. I am Izzie. Rhymes with frizzy, which is exactly what my hair is. I'm fifteen and not a prude. I have no problem with people making out. But do it all the time, and you're sure to piss anyone off, right?

Apparently, according to my sister, I'm weird. I guess if you consider a girl who tends to conduct experiments on rats weird, than I am. Well, not real rats, just my family. For instance, my mom is a rat because she lives with them in her druggie heaven. My sister is a rat because she mates like them. And my dad is a rat because he left to eat garbage (not really, but I consider his girlfriend that).

I'm in high-school, but you would never guess that from looking at me. I'm short like a stump, and have no "curves" or anything. So really, the only time I receive boy attention, is when the gays are around, because I have the chest of a nine-year-old boy.

I'm a wanna-be loner. However, this really stupid girl named Mary-Beth, and I tell you, she's as sweet as a cookie, and a parasite. She feeds off of my lonernessness. When I want to be left alone, she gets happy and says, "Oh, Isabella, dear. Back in Dallas y'all would be considered a darn tootin horse shy of a donkey. Come back now y'heard." Ok, she doesn't say this, but in my head she does. She also has the hair of a Texas-beauty-pageant-mom. She even uses that hairspray that was deemed bad for your health years ago.

My mom is a druggie as I already said. She does whatever you can think of, and things you shouldn't even thing about, let alone roll up in paper and smoke. I'm not one of those daughters who says this is tearing her life apart, because as much as I hate her, she doesn't give a shit about what I do.

7:20 p.m

"Oh Jack, you are so cute." This is a line that is being repeatedly whispered out of Amber's mouth. I know that when I hear this, Jack is leaving, and I can finally come out of my room. I also know that when he leaves, he is not going home to mommy like a good boy should. He is going to another girls house to make-out, and tickle her fancy. I don't care. I don't run to comfort Amber like a sister in a normal house does. I just tell her, her boyfriend is a whore, and end it at that. We both are completely fine with it (as long as he doesn't give her some sex disease).

7:40 p.m

Mom's home. I can hear the clinking beer bottles as she opens the door. She's probably wearing that stupid grin on her face. Sort of like Mary Poppins. She's going to come upstairs, come in my room, call me a daughter-of-a-bitch, and leave. Of course, being the drunk she is, she's not going to realize she is my mother, and I'll laugh alone secretly (or in her face).

"You bitch, get me my shit!" By shit she means drugs. And by bitch, she means me. If I get her precious drugs, I could risk being arrested. But by not giving them to her, she's going to get arrested for running outside, naked, screaming "My stupid daughter won't get me my DRUGS!!!! La-di-da!"

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⏰ Last updated: Nov 26, 2010 ⏰

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