Dead Girl [Update Wednesday & Saturday]

Goth Guy is Following Me- Chapter 1

Today I'm going to to tell you my very shitty life story. Finding out you're not human and that you're marrying a prince actually just sounds way cooler in books and TV.

Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Jennifer Acosta but you can call me Jen. I grew up in Owensboro, Kentucky but moved to Los Angeles, California after I struck a modeling deal at the age of ten.

My story starts seven years later, on the day of the big photo-shoot. So get this, I was offered to be on the cover of Sixteen! Sixteen is like the biggest magazine of all freaking time! I'd been following every issue since my pageant days.

So you know how shoots go, I got my hair and makeup done, had my designer clothes changed like ten times and got bossed around by a creepy 40-year old man with wandering eyes. All very mundane things, and when I finished I headed down to the lobby and something caught my eye. A guy in a button up shirt was standing out like a sore thumb (not the button up shirt part, duh).

He had jet black hair, a cheek piercing, and eyeliner. He was standing in the corner texting on an iPhone, innocent enough, but this was not your usual photo-shoot guy. He looked up and we made eye contact, I turned away a bit embarrassed to have been caught staring, but then I thought "oh what the hell" and turned back around but he was gone. Weird.

I had left my car at a friend's house and I decided I would walk there, I needed the workout as I hadn't been to the gym in two days. My mom would probably be furious if she saw me now, I had just finished a shoot with one of the biggest fashion magazines and instead of sticking till after the photo-shoot and getting acquainted with the people there, I was walking along the street like a peasant (not even exaggerating, that is what she called anyone and everyone except for our family). It was ridiculous.

My mother was probably the reason that I became a model, I started doing pageants when I was three years old, I got offered the modeling deal at one of those pageants and it turned my life upside down. My mother taught me to love and embrace the spotlight, she taught me everything I knew about cosmetics and fashion, she molded me into the person I was. If only that excused what happened on my fifteenth birthday.

As my mind was about to go into the dark spiral that marked my fifteenth year my eyes caught something in the reflection of a nearby car, it was the cheek-piercing kid from earlier. I turned around, but all I saw were people in transit and no sign of him. Was I hallucinating?

Playing it safe, in case he turned out to be a serial killer-stalker, I decided to go into a Starbucks and call a taxi. As my eyes landed on the menu, they searched out the Caramel Frappuccino as if second-nature. It used to be my favorite drink, but when I didn't come home with the first-prize trophy one time, my mother insisted it was because I was getting too fat. Thus, at the age of eight, my mom decided to ban all fatty foods from my diet.

One day when my dad picked me up from school, he got me a Caramel Frappe knowing it was my favorite drink. I hesitated a little but my eight-year-old-self couldn't resist. When I got home with my cup half-full, my mom took one look at it and flipped. She dragged me to the bathroom and actually forced me to throw it all up. Once I had coughed up every last bit of it, she had me drink the rest and barf that up too. I threw up until my throat was scratched up and my voice gone. I've never touched that drink since then.

Instead I just ordered a salad (the post-shoot hunger was real!), sat by the window and started reading my copy of To Kill a Mockingbird as I waited for the cab to arrive.

By the time the cab came, I was so engrossed in my book I barely looked up getting into the cab. A couple chapters and a few resolutions later, I looked up to see the cab turning onto the street of my house. Hold up! I was supposed to pick up my car, not go home... it was right then that I realized, I had never given the driver my address!