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Layla Carson is a part time photographer for her aunt, that's was not Layla's passion and she half assed it most of the time. Her aunt was rude, snobby and picked on Layla for everything she did...
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Edited Feb/07/21
Layla
It's been a hectic week, I've been pushing myself with all my classes and watching Venus. She hadn't been in trouble, but I never realized how perverted men were until I realized that a lot of creeps would hit on a girl too young for them.
Venus didn't like it very much, she begged me to find an apartment. I had found one, I just hadn't told her about it yet until it was fully ready for us to live in. I had been going there during free breaks telling Venus I had an extra class, I had all the rooms done but I was still working on her bedroom.
It was Saturday, my lucky day off. I was exhausted and I just wanted to sleep. Venus was sleeping at her friends and I had already transferred everything I owned over to the apartment building. I was happy it was finished today, it took me by surprise when I realized I had finished and it was a good environment for Venus to live in.
I had notified her school that I was her caretaker now, they were thrilled that they didn't have to deal with her mother anymore. I was disgusted when I found out that my aunt had removed all her donations from the school—since Venus wasn't her daughter anymore. So I ended up using my 'riches' to donate, it was the only way to keep the school running with all the new students they had accepted due to my aunt's donation and to just take it back and have no remorse for the kids who were excited to be able to come to highschool disgusted me. They were crying in the hallway when I gave them the check, I made sure everything went through and decided to make yearly donations to keep their new program running.
I had gone to the same school, my parents could've sent me to a truly private boarding school but they wanted me to experience what it was like for every kid and like how I had grown up. On the first day of high school, I was dropped off in an expensive car, with name-brand expensive clothing that could've fed a family for months. I had never felt more hated in my life, even if this school had a great name, had many more of the rich side kids, had security protocols, security at the front door, parking for cars, and all the aspects of a rich private school.
The kids were from all different backgrounds, religions, ethnicities. There were kids like me that first day who thought nothing of the luxuries I had at home—it was different because walking through the halls I felt emotions. I felt horrible within two hours of being there that I should've dressed differently. There were kids who picked on me because they were angry they couldn't have what I did, kids who cried because they couldn't even afford their gym clothes or locker or lunch, kids who thought I was rude or snotty or obnoxious for showing off.
The next day, I got driven to school in a simpler car. I wore clothes that looked nice, but I never wore what I had again and I proved that I wasn't who they thought I was. There were the snobs who wore their rich clothes and acted like they owned the school, but I realized who I was and who I wanted to be loved for.
