This is my Time {Complete}

Part 2: I'm Done

So, I really liked this story, and I want a lot of people to read it, not for me but for them. Something that will minister their lives. So here is the second part of This is my Time...enjoy.

My life sucks.

There's no way to deny it. I hate it, I hate everything, everyone, I hate life itself. I hate the way people look at other people like their freaks. I hate when people judge, and laugh at other people in order to feel better about themselves, and I especially hate..... myself.

Why, why do I hate myself? I hate myself because I'm ugly, I'm a loser, I have no friends, and on top of it all, I'm small and frail. I can't stand up for myself. I look like a frikin' french fry, with freckles all over and an orange mop of untidy hair.

What can I say, I'm eccentric.

...

I'm Allison.

Allison Blur. Such an ugly name, but that's okay, I don't mind, my life is horrible anyways. trust me, it can't get any worse.

I live in a very,very, ....very bad neighborhood. Its streets are littered with animal entrails, there are homeless people every block, and the air is thick with smoke, and you hear gun shots pretty much every night.

Right now I'm in my tiny room, it's about the size of two and a half twin beds. I look around me and notice all of the pieces of crumpled papers on my very clean tan carpet. I get off of my little rickety twin bed covered in more pieces of crumpled paper, with it's white, pink polka dotted linen bed sheets neatly in place. I start cleaning all of the paper up, and start to dress my bed. after I finish cleaning all of the paper up I stare up at my white alarm clock, and grunt as I see the time it reads , 6:55 am. Time for school.

I'm ready and dressed in a little less than twenty minutes, and as I walk towards the kitchen I notice the mess. There are beer bottles littering our small living room, the kitchen counters and the floor. As I finish cleaning the bottles and throwing them in the trash can, I hear loud giggles coming from my mom's room.

"Not again," I say to myself, as I head over to knock on her dirty white bedroom door. "Mom," I say loudly. The door opens as I'm about to knock again and I stumble back as a horrid stench of sweat and alcohol hits my nostrils.

"What do you want?!," sais a middle aged caucasian man, a man I'v never seen before in my life, but not at all that different from all the guys I've seen in this house. "Umm, excuse me, can I please speak to my mother?" I say, a hint of annoyance painting my voice.

"Hold on, hold on Harry," I hear my mom say in a slurred voice as she tumbles out of the room almost colliding with me. I back away, not at all surprised and motion to the house around us. " Mom, umm, I just came to see if you were okay, I cleaned up the mess and I'm heading out to school, just wanted to say bye, before I left." I say cautiously.

"Am I okay?! Of coarse I'm okay, why wouldn't I be?" she replies with a slur after every word.

"Wastin' my time," I hear her mutter as she drags Harry away back into her room.

"I love you," I say meekly, as the door slams in my face.

Hey everyone! This story is purely fictional, but you never really know what people are passing through at home.....

Please leave comments/ tips

Thanks!

_Nicole