Confessions of a Bitch

Murder In Suburbia

Three things go wrong once we start filming: 

The temperature soars from thirty to forty three degrees. You've got to love the Australian summer. Try sticking around for Christmas. It's fun. 

My mum continues to have even more intense deep and meaningful conversations with Hotpants and my tits turn from normal to itchy in two point five seconds. It's frigging agitating. It's not like I can turn around to scratch my tits. There's a creepy pedo who watches me from his front porch as I leave the house every morning and probably also watches me from his bedroom window. He's probably checking my butt while he's at it. I must admit, I do have a nice looking butt. 

By the end of filming, I am more than ready to quit the stupid project. Mr Hotpants can't stop staring at me and Victoria is giving me one of her African glares. To make matters worse, mum gives me that look that says, "David would make a great son in-law." I wonder what dad would say about that. 

As I'm about entering the house, Victoria mentions something regarding a black car before taking a photo. I take a quick glance at the car but don't think much about it. 

I just want the stupid project to be over. 

Dad chills with me for the remainder of the night on the back porch once everyone's left and asks, "So who's the Walker boy your mum's been raving on about?" 

I snort and take a sip of juice, "He's a douchebag." 

"Amanda," Dad growls. 

I roll my eyes. "He's an obnoxious guy." 

"Why?" 

"You don't want to know." 

Dad's eyes twinkle, "Trust me I do." He leans back and sighs, "You know, I used to be an obnoxious prick when I was younger." He grins at the surprised look on my face. "So I know exactly what you mean when you say a guy is obnoxious." 

I take a large gulp of my juice, "He sleeps around and plays every girl over, and mum takes one look at him and wants him as her son in-law." 

Dad bursts out laughing, "I don't think that will ever happen." He pulls me into a hug. "I've got your back kiddo." 

"Thanks dad. I love you." 

"I feel so loved." He gushes and we laugh together. I'm so glad I introduced him to my mum eight years ago. He's a better father than my cocaine pimping sperm bank donor could ever be. As I'm about heading inside he says, "You need to get a dress for your ball." 

I turn to him and say, "I think I'll just rock up in jeans and a t-shirt." 

"Come on Amanda. Just dress up for once." 

"Sorry. I'm not Cinderella." 

Dad cringes. "How about your wedding?" 

"I'm wearing a garbage bag." 

He sighs and rolls his eyes. "Goodnight kiddo." 

"Night." I turn around to look at him as he stares at the midnight sky and guilt overwhelms me. He makes me happy all the time, not to mention he's amazing at video games. I remember the first time he played Temple Run. He killed it! And then he wowed mum off her feet and has never strayed. He's even able to handle me when I'm about to strangle someone once a month. Looking at him makes me want to go to a fashion store and try on as many dresses and dress up for the ball. I'm sure that would make him happy. 

Sighing, I go back outside and give him a peck on the cheek. He looks surprised. I ruffle his blonde hair, "Love you dad." 

"Love you too kiddo."