Crash

Crash.

Have you ever had that moment where you feel like everything is crashing into you?

Literally or figuratively.

It's that moment of impact where time just comes to a stand still. Time freezes, but your emotions don't. You just feel this giant rush of emotions running through your body. It might be the utter shock you feel as you stare at the little pink plus sign on the one test you never imagined you would pass at 16 years old. It might be the flutter of butterflies in your stomach as you walk down the aisle to your high school sweetheart. It might be the regret that you didn't tell your spouse that one last "I love you," before leaving for work, as a drunk driver plows into your old Honda at the intersection just one block away from your home, late at night.

It might be anything.

But in that moment of impact, you also realize that we all take it for granted entirely too much.

So? What? The moral of the story is that we should "enjoy the little things", and live by the mantra of "Peace, Love, Happiness?"

Wrong.

The moral of my story is that everyone gets fucked over, so there's really no point in trying. But everyone tries anyway.

This is the part of the story where I enter this big wide world of business men with big egos and feminists with even bigger egos. Yay, welcome to the world little kid! Where you get to breathe in the same oxygen as everyone from George Zimmerman to Kim Kardashian.

Hahaha, joy. Not.

My names Gabriella Hughes. 16. Orphan and Foster child since I was four. Single guys suck. Pale skin. Black hair. Blue eyes. 5'4", 105 pounds of fucking awesome. Just a teensy bit obsessed with Paramore. My life's already been screwed up beyond belief, and I'm accepting that more and more each day.

But hey! Maybe I'll clean up my act in school and turn my life around. Here, take a brochure for free therapy sessions.

Oh, sorry, didn't mean to say that. That's just what my counselor at my last school told me.

...That was before I got moved into a different home, however.

The only good thing is that I just have only two more years until I can completely leave my past behind and start somewhere new.

Like, across the country new.

This new foster family won't be able to handle me for any more than about five minutes, I'll probably get stuck with the ridiculously anal ones that would still love to give a sixteen year old a bedtime. Like I said, I'll be way too much of a fuck-up for any family to handle.

And I would bet on that.