She Curses like a Sailor

This has a a bunch of profanity in it if you dont like it or can't handle it dont read it!!

Enjoy though =3

I took a deep breath. And glanced in the mirror cringing, I backed up a few feet until I looked good. Today is going to be a shitty day. I can feel it in my boobs. My boobs know everything. Seriously they know when it’s going to rain or be sunshiny. Fuck the weather man.

I have boobs.

I walked the few steps to the door, and took another deep breath. Great now the awkward silence between my father and I until I can't stand it and quickly wash my unfinished cereal down the sink. I went down the stairs, having the misfortune of seeing my dirty 5 year old combat boots. Damn it, I should have cleaned them. Too late now.

I remembered the second stair creeps and jumped over the last three steps landing on the hard wood floor with a thud, I stumbled and crashed into the wall muttering a string of curse words holding my shoulder that the fortune of hitting the wall. I hit the wall and cringed hearing it echo. The creak would have been the smarter route, I will have to remember that next time.

I went to the kitchen seeing my dad putting strawberries in the blender with a bunch of other stuff that looked gross including a raw egg. Quick- I need a gag bag. Toilet anything?

My dad had my chocolate brown hair except his was in a faux hawk, my dad’s like 30 but looks in his well mid-twenties, he has those murderous looking murky water colored eyes. He was wearing the normal black suit and black tie. I quickly turned to the fridge gagging. Who would eat a raw egg? Gross. I jumped hearing the blender’s loud snarl and reached into the fridge, I grabbed the milk and poured my cereal grabbing a spoon and sitting at the tale setting my bowl down which made some milk splash out on the table. I stared at it for a while wondering if I should clean it up now or later.

I ate my cereal hearing my dad pouring his brownish looking goo into a cup and come and sit down. He offered me a glance. I’m so glad he wasn’t a morning person. I don’t trust people who smile before 9 in the morning.

I finished cleaning my bowl out I grabbed my backpack seeing my refection in the window. I stopped for a minute studying myself.

My hair was messy looking teased, due to me being too lazy to brush it. Don’t tell my secret. I had a red beanie containing it, my skin was tan due to summers in California, I was wearing the normal skinny jeans with rips showing hints of the tattoos covering my skin. My combat boots came a little below my calf due to he tops being flipped over, I frowned seeing the messy strings going together.

I should retie those. I snorted thinking I didn't feel like bending over. I grabbed my leather jacket shrugging it on over my whiskey and ice white and black light hoodie.

“Do you need a ride to school?” my dad asked.

“Um, no thanks I’ve got my bike” I told him hearing him chuckle to himself muttering ‘that accent’ under his breath. I rolled my eyes. My accent was horrible 2 years in the northern territory in austraila, 1 in Ireland, and 2 more in England didn't exactly give me the cute American accent. I had a weird American/Irish/british/austrailian accent. Most people raved over my one of a kind accent but I just cringed when I heard my voice or horrible pronunciations.

I stuck out my index fingers like Elvis, winked and made two clicking noises with my tongue.

“You’re going to do incredible mate” I told myself and slammed the front door yelling a ‘bye’ to my father. I went out to my “crotch rocket” as the American mate would call it. I started my bike up taking my beanie off sticking it in my back pocket, I put my hair in a messy bun slipping my ray bands and helmet on.