Chapter1: If I Cant My Hair Off I Would Look Like A Man With Man Boobs
A cold sweat ran down my brow as the words playing out of my wet lips tried to run back in as the words didn’t fit together. The words on their own were trueful but together were unforgettable false. Staring back at me were my two friends Rachel and Niomi. They seemed to believe in the fairytale stories I feed them. They looked at me as though my life story played out like a sitcom. I told them how I had gone to so many parties and danced with so many cute older boys last summer. I wouldn’t call it lieing as I went to many parties but hadn’t step foot into an unsupervised event. And I had danced with some guys, my granddad and uncles. I didn’t lie they just didn’t ask for the details. I mean I had never lied NEVER but they always tell me amazing stories about their perfect little lives. They told me about the parties they had gone to and even though I knew I would never be able to go I played out like I didn’t want to go anyway. The real Truth was that I didn’t like parties they made me feel uncomfortable and anxious and plus I liked the little bubble that I stay in.
"Well summers here and I’m ready" Niomi shouted , interrupting my thoughts.
"yeah, so am I "
I looked a tem both in dismay as I knew my summer was going to be Horrible. At least they were going to have a great time.
"Mum I’m home" I said not so cheerfully.
I heard clucking of feet coming toward me I then walked closer to the noise. It was my mother. My mum was completely opposite to me she was always in a dress and walk around the house like a fairy, me on the other hand i like baggy clothes and listen to alternative rock music all day. if i cut my fluffy curly black hair off i would look like a man with man boobs.
"Hello dear," my mother said "how was your last day of school?" she asked.
"Good" I replied while travelling up our carpeted staircase. My mum was dark but a bit lighter than me she stood tall with glasses that made her look even more educated then she already was. Her and my father were basically the weirdest people I have ever known. I wonder if I really belong to an Indian family instead. My Parents think I’m a Rebel that insist on making There life horrible, But they don’t know how good they have it .I’m a goody two shoes, if they knew what my friends were dong they would appreciate me more.
