It's an hour later, and I'm still mad at my mom. Music blasts from my radio, which is hooked up to my iPod. It's just a plain old iPod, not an iPod touch.
I really want a cellphone. Everyone is walkin' around with their smartphones, and I don't even have a dumb one. I'm responsible, old enough, AND everyone else has one. It's 9:45 at night. I skipped supper, just to be stubborn. My stomach is roaring now, and anything i try fails to distract me. Finally, as I'm about to give in and go downstairs, I remember my stash of granola bars in my nightstand drawer. I grin and gobble two of them up. Feeling better, I change into my pajamas and lose myself in a book while the music blares on in the background.
YOU ARE READING
My Life is a Silent Hurricane
Teen FictionFor Storm Grey, her name seems to fit the description of her and her life. Acting the part of a tough teen, all hipster clothes, spikes, leather, and black, she acts tough, carefree, and easy-going. But in reality, she's silently screaming for help...
