Shifted [z.m au]

I. Suffering.

◾ suf·fer·ing

noun:
/ ˈsəf(ə)ring /

the state of undergoing pain, distress, or hardship.

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My name is Rena Jules and I'm a loser.

At least that's the way I feel these days. Even the beautiful spring weather we've been having - the red and yellow tulips bobbing in the soft, warm breezes, the fresh smell of newly cut grass - can't cheer me up.

My life is the pits.

I tore a fingernail while getting dressed for school this morning and burst into tears. That's how messed up I am.

My fingernails are long and perfect. Sometimes I polish them rose red, sometimes a lilac purple. Some of the girls tease me about them. But I think they're pretty.

I don't know. I just like the way they look.

I think I'm pretty good looking. I'm not a knockout beauty or anything. But I'm okay. I have straight, dark brown hair, which I wear long, swept back over my shoulders. And I have really good skin, very creamy and pale.

Everyone tells me my eyes are my best feature. They're very light brown and very expressive. My boyfriend, Zayn, says my eyes very mysterious. He says he can stare right into them and not have a single clue about what I'm thinking.

Zayn is right about that. He usually doesn't have a clue about what I'm thinking.

Beside, how could he know what I'm thinking? I always have such weird thoughts.

I wonder if everyone has weird thoughts like me.

Mom says I'd be beautiful if I'd smile more. She says that my hangdog expression pulls down my whole face.

She also thinks I should cut my hair short. "Why do you need so much hair?" she asks, shaking her head. Her hair is cropped nearly as short as a man's. "Think of all the hours you spend washing it and caring for it."

Mom is full of advice.

Sometimes she can be a real pain. She'll see that I'm unhappy, that I'm depressed about something. But that doesn't stop her from unloading more advice. Does she really think I want to be just like her?

She and Dad are so boring. It's pitiful to watch them at the dinner table every night. Struggling to think of something to say to each other.

When I get married, I hope I don't sit around talking about how hot it is outside and whether or not buy a new kind of weed killer.

It's so depressing!

My parents are always in my face. I'm not the only one who notices it. My friends at Flacside High agree with me. They all have a lot more freedom than I do.

They can take the car and drive around at night and visit friends and stuff. They don't have to tell their parents everywhere they're going and when they'll be back, the way I do.

After all, we're seniors. We're practically adults.

I don't see why I have to call and check in with my parents if I'm away more than a couple of hours or if I'm going to be later than I said.

I can take care of myself. They've got to learn to give me some space.

I could go on and on about Mom and Dad. But they're not the only reason I've been feeling really messed up these days.

I've had a few problems in school. I don't know if it's spring fever or what.

I should have written my biology report. But I didn't.