Our family is pretty weird - and I use the term "pretty" loosely. Our parents are complete opposites. Dad works like all the time and pays as little attention to us as possible. Mum, on the other hand, is the over-protective embarrassing type. The only thing that they have in common is that they both have a clichéd personality.
I like to decorate my room with pictures from magazines that I find. Headphones, cats, musical notes, CDs et cetera, et cetera. So that's what I do every moment of my spare time.
Kyle's The Favourite, it's obvious. Honestly, I don't care, though I always wonder why. Take last Mother's Day: I thought long and hard about my present. Mum always loved this porcelain doll when she was young (until she lost it when she moved to the city); she also likes romance films and all that rubbish. So, I bought her a foot-tall doll with long, dark brown hair and bright blue eyes like hers. The doll had a pink headband with red hearts printed on, a matching dress with a red ribbon tied around the middle, a deep red rose in her hand, pink frilly socks and ruby red shoes. As well as the newest book by her favourite author that came out only a few days before. I wrapped them both up carefully in specially chosen paper with hearts and the word "Love" all over. And I managed to do all this without throwing up.
That morning I left the package in mum and dad's room. Dad was already up and typing away in the office downstairs and mum was always a heavy sleeper so I had no trouble sneaking in.
She didn't even see it, so I had to sneak back up there and bring it downstairs to give it to her in person. She tore away the paper gingerly as if it were a bomb and when, after about an hour, she finally ripped it all off, she just blinked.
"Oh...Um...Thank you, dear..."
It didn't bother me because I knew she wouldn't go crazy over anything I got her. I wasn't The Favourite.
At about seven o'clock in the evening, Kyle traipsed downstairs, threw something in mum's direction (nearly taking her eye out, I might add) and just strode up to his room again without a word, without a breath, even.
Mum pounced on it, adoring it before she even knew what it was. He hadn't bothered to wrap it; had just stuck on a sticky note and sprawled the words: Mum
Im loaning dis 2 u 4 da day
Yeah, hardly a day.
He had just grabbed a random video game out of his cupboard. This was one of the many that involved killing senselessly.
Mum loved it. She let out a sigh with a stupid smile on her face, grabbed it and ran in to dad's office.
I anticipate that it went something like this:
"Oh, Dave, look!"
Grunt.
"Isn't it wonderful?"
Grunt.
"Kyle gave it to me" (whilst clutching the case to her chest and sighing, again)
Typing.
Since then I have only got her presents that I know she'll hate, not that it makes any difference.
So that's my family. I'm surprised I'm not in an asylum by now.
YOU ARE READING
Love is for Losers
RomanceRia is sixteen and has never been kissed... and loves it! She's sick of seeing couples pressed against each other in hallways, thinking about nothing but snogging. She swears blind that she's never been in love, and never will be... but will new-com...
