Not One In Eight

30. Ugh I Sound Like Spiderman

SOng of the ch. Is.............................................

21 GUNS

By Green Day (MY new Fav song!!!!!!!)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Song on da side!!!!!!

And a spidy pic!

Happy Thanksgiving if you celebrate!

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"I'm taking Emmalie with me." David projected and gently grabbed my arm but of course my dad had to grab my other arm.

"I don't think so. I just got her and I'm never giving her back." My father said and the Finn spoke up. He was furious at my father and I guess I understood where he was coming from. Then again, I understand where my dad is coming from. He hasn't seen in daughter (well the one he cares about) in a decade.

"She's ours." Snarled Finn.

"She's my daughter, little boy!"

"She's rather be with us!"

"No she would rather be with me."

"Guys, listen I'll just-" I started but they cut me off. I'm totally pissed off right now.

"Emmalie, we're talking lease don't interrupt." They both said calmly to me. WTF?

"Guys we can work something out. And lease don't cut Emmie off. It angers her." David projected and they looked to him angrily.

"You'd better shut it before we make you!" both said in union. There goes reasoning.

"How about we allow her to choose. Her mate and best friends and family and EVERYTHING she loves or you." Finn said and I shook my head, bit my lip, and scrunched my nose. Did he have to remind me. Both let go and glared each other in the eye.

Leaving David and I to awkwardly stand there as they yelled.

"Yes, the father who loves her so much and would do anything for her and left only for your safety or the boy who is secretly plotting behind your boyfriend's back to steal you." My father said cruelly and I looked at him horrified. How could he reveal something like that in front of me.

And that was a low blow. Way too low for me to stand. Then again Finn was dealing out just as much trash as my father was. The lowness both dealt was just too much for me to handle it. So I stalked out and ran into a young women. We both collided and a bunch of towels were thrown all over.

"I'm so sorry!" I told her looking at her. She was small, probably 4 10- 5 foot. Short brown hair, a mix of Spanish and French features, the French is what I assume at least. Her skin the lovely color of Spanish but her nose and eyes look more French.

I'm guessing she was the maid by her attire. The short black dress with the little apron and the black high heels. And by the looks of the many puncture marks on her throat and arms she very well liked by the gentlemen. And maybe the women too.

She's so cute. Plus I can sorta taste her blood and it's pretty nice smelling. Wait I shouldn't know that. I'll have to ask my old man about that. I sure hope that doesn't happen a whole lot cause it'd be really annoying.

"No, no senorita it was mi fault." She apologized and I smiled and shook my head.

"Tengo la culpa de todo." I apologized (It was all my fault." In spainish.

"Tu hablar espanol?" she asked and I nodded. All through elementary school and some Rosetta Stone. You know that language thing.

"Si. Como eres?" (Yes. Where are you from?)