A messed up teenage diary

3/19/17

  11:59 am
3-19-17
McDonald's is some sort of Hell. And my greasy little ten-year-old brother loves Hell. He always orders a happy meal with a plain hamburger, gogurt, fries and some sort of smoothie which costs more than just a regular drink.

Greasy pig. My parents don't have another option because he is so picky that he won't even eat anything else if we go to a different fast food place. I try to fight it but it isn't really worth trying.

Another thing I hate about it is that the smell of the place makes me sick. The grease, the fat, and whatever else gives off fumes in that building. So gross. My Dad agrees. I think he has a general hatred for it whereas I have a lot of reason to not like it that are more personal.

I digress.

I walk inside. I reach for the handle slowly detaching itself from the door. The door is the barrier between me and this toxic area that my brother is already inside. My left hand slowly grabs the handle. It's greasy and salty and damp. I pull my hand back as quickly as if the handle had fire ants on it.

My beautiful mother sighs and opens the door and holds it for me. I thank her as I shuffle inside.

Grease. Body odor. Soda. Salt. All these smells invade my nasal passages. And I feel like vomiting. My Dad looks down at me and I could tell he felt the same way. I told him I just wanted a four piece nugget. And nothing else. He nodded.

I went to go sit down. My brother was running around with his greasy unwashed fingers touching everything. He ran over to me and reached out to touch my arm. I slapped it away. "Sterilize your hands three times and then you can touch me," I said.

He tried again. I blocked his hand. He tried again. I hit his hand hard enough to where it moved away from me. Finally, he left me alone.

To distract myself from the smells of the room to the feeling of the unwashed table, I slipped my headphones on and push play on my music player.

I am greeted with electric guitars, a bass, drums and various vocals. Mainly aggressive yelling singing and rapping. I listened to the guitars and the sounds they made. It was such a pleasing sound to my ears.

The sounds made me feel safe. And a little less on edge. "Throw it all away" the music screamed. I smiled.  

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  1:13 Pm

I'm car sick. It's probably from the McDonald's. Something in the car smells like dog poop. And it makes me sick. Yeah, I deal with dog poop on a daily basis but it's a lot more potent right now. Where is it? Why is it so bad?

Trying to take Kuro and Duke to the lake was a terrible idea. Kuro by himself would've been fine. Especially if we'd made sure the property was dog proof the day before. But it wasn't. Not by a long shot. Heck, it's pretty bad. The fence on the far end of the property separating our property from the property to our left fell down.
So thAt extra 10% of fence made it possible for the dogs to get into someone else's property. And the dogs took that possibility and made sure it happened.

Dad did his best to keep them out by placing a bunch of chairs between properties but the dogs got past it. A lot. We got Kuro to jump in twice. If Duke wasn't there, it would've been easier.

The property isn't just ours. We share it with my Dads side of the family. And they suck. they hate my Mom. They hate my Mom because 80% of my dad's side is women. And when Dad came along, they sort of treated him like a Prince. Dad started seeing my mom and the women felt like Mom was taking Dad away from them. My Mom was a threat to them.

To this day they still don't like them. And it's not just that. My Moms side isn't super friendly either. They liked my Mom. But they lived so far away it was hard to see them. And My Moms parents were really bad parents. So mY mom wanted acceptance.

She didn't get it from either side.

Anyways, the property is trashed. Okay, it wasn't terrible but it needed to picked up, mowed, and cleaned.

Over by the fridge and changing room and porta potty, there was a stench of dog poop. And no source. Legitimately. No visible source.

I need to somehow get one of those greedy women to leave this place to me in my will. But my mom doesn't like them so she wouldn't want me around them. I don't really want to be around them either.

It's 1:46 and were almost home. I am still sick to my stomach. There is still the faint odor of dog droppings in Dads pick up. I want to go grab all my stuff and wash it.