[1] The Beginning of the Great Mess I Call My Life.

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Verity

My hand breezes across the seat as I take it in. Take everything in. My breath is deep where it should be shallow and I wonder why I am in the mood I am. This should be a big deal. This is a big deal and yet I'm acting like it's any other day. I really do not understand myself, not that I ever have. My mother stares at me for this obscenity and all I can do is question, like I always do.

I question my own sanity almost daily, it's that bad. All I have is this voice in my head always telling me what to do, what to say and how to act. And that's not just my mother.

People often think I'm a bit crazy - I never seem to do things normally. All I do is make a massive fool of myself and wait until everyone gets tired of the joke, think I'm off the hook and then make another. To be honest it's my life that's the joke. My mother's always been ashamed of me - I can see it in her eyes. She wants me to be a perfect daughter that she can boast about like Mrs Robinson does with Henrietta, God Henrietta. All I hear is Henrietta got all 9s in her GCSEs and she won a show jumping competition and she did this and this and this and... Okay you get the message. The annoying thing is that Henrietta herself is the one that boasts the most - the egotistical bitch. She might as well live up her own arse, she cares about herself that much. We're often lumped together and all I hear is her repeating everything my mother's already told me about her. Anyway, the bottom line is that I'm not an egotistical bitch - not because I choose to - it's because I physically can't have a big ego; I'm not good at anything.

And I know, I know that you're rolling your eyes right now because that's what all girls say along with 'I'm not like other girls' but seriously I can't do anything without messing it up. I don't know how I still have friends to be honest, if you would even call them friends.

"Verity?!" My mother looks me dead in the eyes in a way that tells me she'll kill me if I don't do what she wants. So I just sit down and breathe and try not to think about how fucked up this situation is. I don't go to the extreme of giving the smile, but at least I'm trying.

We're in the dining room - which is why I knew it was serious in the first place; my mother only uses the dining room when she's either got guests round or when she wants to 'discuss' important matters. I guess it must have something to do with the cold atmosphere it brings, with the dark hardwood table right in the middle.
"I know this is hard for you, but just hear me out." I nod my head, taking a big gulp of air. Holding my breath has always helped me to concentrate, along with sitting on my hands, both of which I'm doing now.

"Verity, me and Mark," she purposely takes her time to gauge my reaction "Me and Mark are engaged."

I try not to let my face slip or tell her off for incorrect grammar like she does to me every day. It would sound ungrateful if I actually tell her what I think about the situation, so I stay still.

"Look, I know you find it hard because of your father but-"

"I hate Mark. I've got no problem with the fact that you've found someone new"

"And why do you 'hate' Mark?!' She snaps back, upset that her idea of a happy family is again being ruined by me. Sometimes I think she'd be happier if I didn't exist. No, I don't think, I know.

"You know why I hate Mark!" we've been through this countless times. It's our biggest point of contention right now, along with my weekly disasters at school. "He hates me, wants to ship me off to some boarding school somewhere and he's got some hidden agenda that you can't see"

"You're just talking nonsense - he doesn't hate you - he just can't talk to you because you don't let him, and for the hidden agenda, well, what can I say?"

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