The (Im)Perfect Escape

After the accident, nothing seemed right. I walked around like a mindless zombie, having the occasional breakdown that involved me rocking back and forth in the fetal position while muttering about imaginary men in spandex suits and lollipops. I shouldn’t have been too surprised when my grandparents shipped me off to spend the summer with my shrink stepmother in the no-name Texan beach town she lives in.

Now, I’m stuck in a town full of crazies. It’s as if Noah’s ark of rejects made a home here, and now most of them are flocking to me. When did I turn into a beacon for insane people? All I want to do is get through this summer without fully cracking and getting a full ride trip to the funny farm. Is that too much to ask?

Although, it might be what I deserve after what I did. Karma seems to have it out for me. Or maybe Old Man Wallace—or whatever his name is today—is right, and the androids really are out to get us all.

This was supposed to be the perfect escape—a way to get away from everything back home. It’s starting to look like I’m in a summer chick flick gone way, way wrong.