My own habits

My own habits

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WpMetadataReadEn cours d'écriture<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeDernière publication mer., févr. 13, 2019
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Mots-clésmoney
When I was younger I used to save money for take a vacations with my family .My mom created an account for me and my siblings. It wasn't a real account, my mom was a kind of secret bank for of all us. I have to admit that I didn't save as much as they did. Now my habits has changed, I waste my money in things that I don't really need; I usually like to buy online and go to the mall too, that's why I don't like to go out with my friends. I know that I have to save money for start my studies, but sometimes its really hard. Usually I talk with my mom every day , sometimes she ask me for money for go to the doctor or because she needs something or maybe she wants to hang out with my nephew and I know he ask everything from the Candy's store ,I can't say not ! She is my mother, you can't say ¡No! to your mother. Here is my advice if you really need save money don't speak with your family for a few months you can see the difference, don't worry everything would be right with them. No way ! Here is the real advice the best way for save money has been to create another account and I never ever used it.
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New town. New identity. Same crazy. I love it!!! (insert enthusiastic voice ) (cough, cough) Not!! I hate it. I hate having to to hide who I am. But to protect the civilians and my new home from being destroyed like my last ones, I have obey the leader's rule. No matter if I do disapprove. But all of that changes when I meet, more like bump into someone who's special. ... DOOR OPENS. "Naomi Satchel!" my mother yells as she comes blaring through the doors. "Yes?" I say as I still lie under the covers. My mother pulls my cover from my body and tosses it on the floor. I quickly sit up in my bed and glare at her. "Get your ass up now you have half an hour left before your first-period starts and you better not be late," she demands. "Mom, this isn't my school. This isn't my home. I don't want to go." I whine and beg my mother at the same time to let me stay home. What was I thinking? My mom has an image to uphold being this perfect mother who loves and cares about her little baby girl. We both know the truth. Until a few years ago, I never even knew she existed. She and my father both agreed to send me here because they couldn't stand the fact that I fell in love with a black boy. Although neither of them would ever admit, that's the only reason why I know of her. I don't want to attend a school where I'm going to have to forsake who I truly am just to fit into their liking. How can I explain that to my mom when she sees everything to be black and white.

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