Different

My name is Anna. My hair is brown, with natural curls, and I have blue/green/grey, eyes. I'm 16 and in one week I will be 17. I'm 5'6 and my body is average. My mother is almost my twin. Everyone around my town says we're a spittin image. Although, she doesn't really look like me, in my eyes. She's more darker, and she has a more Hispanic complexion. Call me racist, but I don't know how else to describe it.

Mother never really told me stories about myself as a child, and if she ever did, she'd always tell me. "Your momma's little girl. You have my smile, and those eyes, they're one-in-a-million." It's like she hides my life from me. I can't really remember myself. It's like whenever I think hard about my past, horrific images pop up. Like, this women, throwing a blanket on me, and shoving me in a clothes basket. Peeping through the whole of the basket i'd see the women being slaughtered. Looking through the suspenseful whole, a eye meets mine and I scream and everything blacks out.

My dad? He's a dead beat. Always told me that mom wasn't giving him enough pleasure. To be honest, all the hand grabs and movements he made me give him, I notice now what he meant by, "mom wasn't giving him enough pleasure." The only thing only problem is I actually fell for it. I feel, disgusted and, just... I feel like a disgrace.

My brother died in a car crash with my uncle, so I never really got to know him. His name was Kevin, and he died at the age of 7. At the time I was only 4. It's like, everything around me is dead. My moms name is Carol, and my fathers is Dave. Mom is 34 and father is 40.

I look down at the dripping water from the pipe I'm suppose to fix. The drip of every drop makes the intensity of the volume increase, causing my ears to make the drops sound like the base in a movie.

"Anna!" A loud angry roar from my father, makes me screw the rusted pipe back into the re-fixed pipe mother just bought, and scatter up the old wooden stairs, causing my over worn flats to wear out even more.