Caribbean

Chapter 1

"I told you billion times that I don't want to go!" I shout over the big, empty room. It's white and clear, with no carpet and there is also a huge, expensive TV.

"Oh yes, you do. We've been through this and you're going. End of conversation", my mom yells back, on her way to some place at the house.

I don't believe it. This is the seventh time that we're fighting this morning about the vacation. My parents are forcing me to go with them to some place in the Caribbean sea. Something called Negril, in Jamaica. I hate it. I swear, I'm not a spoiled brat.

I know no one would believe me. I know that everyone's dream is to go to Caribbean. But not mine. First, I've been there dozen of times – I'm still not being spoiled – second, it would be a nice vacation, yes, but you don't know my parents. They are really successful, but not in a good way. With a lot of money, my mom, an actress, and dad, a movie director, they make a perfect Hollywood couple. Again, there is a but. My parents are celebrities who seek for attention of tabloids, paparazzi and so on and than pretend that all that fame is annoying. Guess who gets annoyed the most. I've done a couple of commercials and published a story in a magazine on their demand. What came out in the newspaper the next day was: Exclusive! Valeria Collins about her daughter: "We don't push her to be famous and successful. She is natural and we are proud of her". If only.

Living with them is a nightmare. Going on a vacation with them is even worse.

As I said, I've already lived through a couple of vacation episodes. Since I finished junior year this June, this is going to be an 'epic' experience. I can see my mom with here sunny blond hair acting uninterested as soon as we arrive at a hotel where only people like George Clooney and Sandra Bullock come and my dad saying: 'Yes, senior year is going to be challenging for our girl, but we're sure she'll be the best'. And the next day room service is bringing the newspaper to our 'modest room', my mom is screaming and reading the headline to me: 'The famous Collins family on a vacation before their daughter's final high school year. Isn't that amazing? After this, the world will be even more interested to see your dad an my new family/love-drama/comedy.'

"Get your things ready!" my mom yelled subtly. She is good and calm even at house. Yes, house, not home.

I gaze at my small Louis Vuitton suitcase, that had been packed before. For a minute I glare at it with hatred in my eyes and imagine it glaring back. Dad prepared three other bags for me, big, bigger and the biggest, but this one is just enough. So I yell back: "Already have!"

I'm Krista Collins and I hate my life.

I hate my parents' money.

I hate their fake attitude and fame.

I hate everything that has to do with Los Angeles, Caribbean or showbiz and I want to move as soon as possible.