Shit Happens [REWRITING SOON]

1. It's one of those days

'Say no more counting dollars, we'll be counting stars.'

-One Republic, Counting Stars

Número un.

I would start this story with a once upon a time, but quite frankly, it doesn't suit. This story starts just like any normal one that doesn't have the plot of a fairytale. I could start it with 'One morning...' or 'That particular day..." but these beginnings are too boring; too ordinary when in actually fact, I, Jaycee Louise Meadows, is as crazy as crazy can be, and these would bore someone like myself to death. And so this is how I have decided to begin this story. With onomatopoeia:

Beep! Beep!

It was a Monday morning, the first of the school year, and I woke to my notorious alarm clock and it's retched beeping, reinforcing in my mind the day it was. Monday's are the worst, especially when it is the first day of a school year after an amazing Summer break.

Now don't get me wrong, school is alright when you take away the learning part, as it is a time of socialising and in my case, playing the role of Karma.

But other than that, school is absolutely shit, plus I attend Greensville Private School, a posh shithole full of stuck up bitches and dickheads.

These thoughts were continuously running through my mind as I struggled to find the motivation to get up and drag myself out my door and into the bathroom. Eventually I managed it, and was rewarded by the relaxing lukewarm water washing over me.

Now I don't want to bore you with details on how I dried myself and my nice blue hair (sorry I forgot to mention that part), clothed myself in the horrible school uniform, styled my hair and put on my makeup, so I'll skip to the part where I staggered down the stairs, nearly killing myself, all for food.

I entered the kitchen to the heavenly smell of Nutella on toast. My little brother Matthew came up and hugged my legs (he's three). I ruffled his chestnut hair and greeted him with, "Morning, Matty."

Next up was my older sister, Arabellina. "Yo," I said. She just gave me a smile in return. Were my parents drunk when they name her? Probably. I seated myself on the stool next to her and placed my order of Nutella on toast. My mother and father greeted me with a 'good morning' each and in response I gave them kisses on the cheeks. And for what had to be the millionth time, I wondered how I belonged to this family.

You see, everyone besides myself had incredibly curly chestnut hair and green eyes. I, on the other hand, had boring brown eyes and my hair was naturally blonde (as you know, it's now blue) and just seemed to hang there, unlike the rest of my family's gorgeous curls.

A plate of deliciousness arrived under my nose and I was finally able to indulge in the heavenliness that was Nutella.

Or so I thought.

I almost choked to death. Whatever was on that slice of toast was most definitely not my precious Nutella.

"What is this?" I managed to say, through my gagging.

"My dear, that's sugar free hazelnut spread. I've decided that you need to cut down on the sugar, and that includes Nutella," my mother dear replied.

Immediately I spat it out. "Since when did I get a say in this? It's disgusting!" I exclaimed in protest.

"Look at you. You're gaining more weight with every single grain of sugar you eat."

I most certainly wasn't. I was clearly as skinny as anything, lacking curves in the breast and the bum department. I had my high metabolism and my very, very, very ancient Asian heritage to thank for that.