Twisted (title pending)

Chapter One:

I was born, and I lived. Unlike my mother. She died a week later, and I don’t even have a memory of her. My dad used to tell me stories about her- how beautiful she was, how awesome. I wish I could have known her. But no- she died, and I don’t even know exactly why. Dad used to refuse to talk about her death; it would choke him up. Sometimes I would catch him choking up at night when he thought I was asleep. But that was before the accident.

Oh, who am I kidding? I’ve got no reason to tell this journal my life story. Honestly, I’m surprised Lenora let me get it. She usually doesn’t let me buy stuff unless it’s with my own money.

I suppose I should introduce myself. I mean, here I am moping before I even tell you my name. I’m-

“Anabella! Get downstairs right now!”

I sighed and put the pen down. Would Lenora ever actually bother to get up off the couch and get me herself? No, probably not. I got up and ran downstairs, trying to make as much of a ruckus as possible, just to annoy them.

Lenora was sitting on the couch as usual, eating something that looked greasy and fried, laughing at the TV. The living room looked pristine, and for a moment I felt proud of myself, knowing that I was the one who had gotten it that way.

It didn’t last long. Lenora looked at me with her beady eyes, glaring.

“Anabella, that was the third time I called you to come downstairs.”

I stayed silent. She knew I hated it when she called me by my full name.

“Answer me.”

“You didn’t ask a question.”

Her eyes narrowed, and I regretted saying that. Things tended to just pop out of my mouth as soon as I thought them.

“For that, you have to do the dishes tonight. I called you down here to tell you that we ordered Chinese. Go get some if you want. I’m not sure if there’s anything left. Anne or Corrie might have eaten the rest.”

Knowing the pigs that they were, it was likely.

“Chinese is so unhealthy- especially that take out stuff. Didn’t you say you were going to go on a diet?” I demanded. It was a bad choice, but Lenora had said she’d begun a diet. And yet there she was, greedily eating something that stained her multiple chins and fat fingers with grease.

“I’ll start tomorrow. Go.” For once I obeyed and went into the kitchen, looking in the pantries for something that might be even somewhat healthy. I tossed the take out box of Chinese in the garbage and then washed my hands to get rid of the grease that seemed to stick to my fingers. Unlike the living room, the kitchen was filthy- there were dirty plates in the sink, grease stains on the counter, and crumbs on the table, not to mention the sticky floors. I felt like I was in a movie theater- my shoes squelched every time I took a step. Disgusting.

Maybe we had pasta or something. That with some garlic sounded pretty good. I fished around in one of the cabinets until I found the pasta and the garlic shaker.

“What are you making?”

I turned around to see Anne. Her bright, Kool-Aid red hair was frizzy again- a fact that earned her the nickname Raggedy Anne. At least, that’s what I called her. Somehow, despite all the fat she ate, she managed to be stick thin.  

“Just boiling some pasta. Do you want some?” I asked, figuring it was best to be nice. She hadn’t done anything yet.

Anne wrinkled her nose. “Pasta? We have Chinese, you know.”