Rebel's Lies (Completed)

08 Done

No matter how many options, two black and white choices are the easiest for humans. Give someone two choices, tell them to pick pick one and they will, without even recognizing that truly there are more options. Pick A. Pick B. Pick neither. Pick both. Pick something else. Sadly some people don't care about the other "unseen" options and are happy with on of the choices. Yet when the question is about choosing one family member over another, it becomes heart breaking.

I am sure of some people and what side they would pick, are picking. Grandma Janet Wempen was one of the first to pick Jade's/Dad's side. Andrea, Andie, Paul, Tabitha, and most of there family has joined Jade's/Dad's side and they are not related to us. My aunt Amanda and uncle Mike have chosen, and picked Jane's side. The rest of our family doesn't seem to know what sides to pick, and I'm not sure who I can trust.

When mom got off of work yesterday the first thing she says "So Jasmine, how are your grades?"

"Well..." I began before she cuts me off.

"Because I heard you have an F in English." Then she just walk away avoiding argument. I follow her down the hall to finishing talking. "I got an email and a call today from your teacher. Apparently you are flunking English." Then she just stars at me.

While trying to hold back the tears I murmur, "Sorry. I'll go work on it." Then I quietly leave. Entering my room, I pull my AP Language/Composition folder and lay it on my bed. The moment I sit down on my bed to start the homework, I know what she is going to say when she comes in. I sit stunned, worry and fear rippling through my body. I am not like her. I am not like her. I think to myself over and over again. I am not her. I am not her. My mom comes into my room and sits by me on my bed. I need to get my work done. I am her. I am not like her. I need to get my work done. I am not her. I am not like her.

"Jasmine why haven't you gotten your homework done before?" I am not like her. "Turn around and face me." I need to get my homework done. "Are you going to talk to me?" I need to get my work done. I don't want to be like her. I need to get my work done. "Jasmine, talk to me." I don't want to be like her. "You know, your starting to remind me of Jane."

Slightly louder than the sobbing I whisper, "I don't want to be like her." Then I brake back down to a crying mess. And I realized that what I said is my biggest fear, becoming her.

"Look at me. Look at me. Your reminding me of Jane and it's scarring me. After trying and trying I finally had to give up on her, and I don't want to give up on you."

   
Sometimes I am not even sure how to feel, sometimes I feel to much. I've come up with a list of words, while trying to find one perfect word, to describe me at almost any moment, how have I felt once or all at once.
Accused. Aggravated. Afraid. Alone. Angry. Anxious. Astonished. Bitter. Blue. Cautious. Defensive. Depressed. Devastated. Disappointed. Fearful. Frightened. Frustrated. Furious. Gloomy. Guilty. Haunted. Heartbroken. Helpless. Hesitant. Hopeless. Horrified. Hostite. Impatient. Inadequate. Incompetent. Inferior. Infuriated. Insulted. Let down. Lonely. Lost. Miserable. Neglected. Offended. Optimistic. Outraged. Petrified. Puzzled. Resentful. Revengeful. Shocked. Stunned. Squashed. Tearful. Testy. Threatened. Unaccepted. Used. Useless. Violated.

I'm not sure how to feel, sometimes I just don't even want to. Still, whatever I truly feel I never can show. I must always seem happy, appear ok, and let them think that everything is fine.