Facebook of my life

Chapter 3

 School got better, but I still saw a few smirks and stifled laughs when some people thought I wasn't looking. I knew I was probably the laughing stock of the whole school, but I was glad that most people didn't bother me anymore and that some people just didn't care. Although some still did, I didn't really like those people anyway, so I| didn't care too much. I had to get over it. No point on being unhappy over something I can't change is there?

Or could I change it? No, I quickly dismissed the thought from my head. Even if I did somehow delete my Facebook page and YouTube channel and my parents blogging site, my parents would only punish me interminably and what good would that be in the end? They would just make a new site and Facebook page and YouTube channel and start over. It would never end. I found myself wondering how long this would go on for. I imagined my parents in a nursing home when they're old and wrinkly, on their laptops, updating their site and Facebook page and Youtube channel on their fifty-year-old daughter. Creepy. I shuddered. I couldn't let it get that far. But then, when would it actually stop? It had to stop sometime..but when?

I shook my head, trying to get my thoughts out of my head. I couldn't think like that. My parents were smart and respected people. They wouldn't keep on doing this. Although they've gone this far, and they are kind of dopey when it comes to me. Damn, I needed to get out! Clear my head. Get some fresh air. Only I had one teensy weensy little problem. I was grounded.

I strolled down to the kitchen to get some food for my rumbling tummy and casually see where my parents were and what they were doing. I looked into the sitting room where, at ten o'clock at night, plenty of parents would be relaxing in front of the T.V. It was dark, and unless my mom or dad was hiding in there in the dark, they weren't in there. I peeped into the living room where we kept our computer. The light was on, softly illuminating the large, furniture filled, homey room. There, at the computer sat my dad, his eyes intently swivelling across the computer screen. Probably plotting my next punishment, or as he would call it, his next blog or vlog or video story or status about me or something like that.

I walked into the brightly lit kitchen. My mom was there making lunches for tomorrow. I opened the fridge but was deeply disappointed. There was barely anything in there. My tummy started to talk again. I opened the press nearest me and saw a packet of those yummy doughnuts with no holes in them, but sugary jam in the middle instead, which oozed out when you got to the middle and bedazzled your tongue with it's sweet taste. I reached up for the packet, which seemed to have an angel light shining down on it. Or at least in my head it did. My mouth was watering.

A soft slap on my hand with a sharp "No!" brought me back down to earth again. I turned my gaze over to meet my mom’s stern face.

Why? I thought.

"But..I just wanted.." I began to mumble but was cut off.

"Markella, you're grounded. That means no going out after school and no luxuries at home. Which reminds me, did your dad ever take your phone off you?" She asked threateningly.

I was confused. Why had no one told me about the no luxuries at home thing before?

"I'm hungry though," I protested.

"Then you can take a piece of fruit," my mom kindly informed me.

I looked distastefully over at the fruit bowl. My mom hadn't gone shopping recently and most of the fruit was going off and turning dry and squashed up.

"Now about your phone,” My mom hassled me, her eyes pouring deep into my eyes, as if looking into my soul.

“Mom! That’s not fair! You never told me I couldn’t have my phone or doughnuts because I’m grounded. I think if you looked up grounded in the dictionary it wouldn’t say anything about taking away food or phones from your kids,” I argued, looking daringly into my mom’s eyes, seeing what she’d come back with. Knowing it, in fact, but hoping she wouldn’t say it.