I'm alone. I've always been alone.
Just me, myself, and a cat.
Do I mind it? No, not as much as people may think.
Unfortunately, I have played it out as my sob story. Yeah, sadly the only one that would work with me was the stereotypical "rich girl neglected by her parents" character.
Actually I had no tragic event take up my past, no respected persons to inspire me. No particular interests or motivation.
All my parents are alive, grandparents too. Not even a simple goldfish's death to taint my path. The only pet I've ever had is my trusted cat, who is as equally spoiled and self centered as me.
I have the ideal lifestyle for someone who went through trauma at a young age, or parent(s) with financial problems, though. They would love to live this life that I do not care for.
Basically, there is nothing to soften the blow of my wealthy upbringing and lifestyle. Nothing for me to defend myself with when people accuse me of being ungrateful, spoiled or greedy. So I had to make one. Something to at least get a little bit of pity out of people. After all, just like my touter says, "it's all about appearances."
And because of these things I am called ungrateful, (by the people who can see through the sob story) for not enjoying this boring way of life. For not being raised to appreciate "the little things." It's not my fault my sheltered self can't enjoy expensive trips or fancy parties. I've never had friends that I would go out with and experience life to the fullest, so how can I even be expected to appreciate the little things when I don't know how to find them?
I'm not beautiful. My pale skin was not nurtured to perfection like the other girls with the same social standing as me. I hated people touching me. And being near me. No hair stylus or makeup artist could come near me regularly. I did not allow some fake smiles woman to "kindly" give me fashion advice.
I took care of myself, washed my own face, scrubbed my own body, brushed my own teeth. I didn't need anyone.
I'm not beautiful. In any way, inside or out. I didn't believe anyone who told me I was.
How could I be? I never wore makeup or worked out, my fashion sense was as good as a dead mans. Sure, I inherited my mothers green eyes but they are nothing but a small flower in a garbage dump.
Although, that's ok. I don't care what I look like. I never go outside anyway. I'm homeschooled and lazy. The only time effort is put into my appearance is when I go out to uptight parties or attend interviews with my family. And it is all done by other people.
I hated people who called me beautiful. It's all fake. Not even my personality was pretty; I put forth no effort into being nice, or making friends. I had no hobbies and I only care about myself and my cat.
Me, myself, and a cat.
