It's a surprise to write in this from my last entry, I was entering my second trimester of pregnancy. It's been well; six months since then and I've already given birth to my baby girl, Availia Lynn Brady. The day it all went down, I was tired, feeling quite fat and lazy. My apetite was always on high, I ate everything. That morning was no different, wake up and eat a bowl of cereal, wait for Justin to wake up, ponder when this was finally going to get over with, sit in my room all day while Justin goes to work and watch TV. 7:30pm is when they started. Little contractions, I've had these ones before so they didn't phase me. A few nights before I had gone into false labor and was dissapointed when I woke up to the absence of labor pains. This night, I made sure they wouldn't go away. I walked through the house, up the stairs, down the stairs, back and fourth from room to room never stopping until I got bored of it and decided to eat. So at around 9pm when they were noticably increasing I texted Justin "I think it's time for you to come home". He wasn't as excited as I thought he would be, we had been antisipating this moment for nine and a half long months. His arrival releived some of my stress, though my dad was there incase anything happened. Justin and I layed down in our room to discuss the plan. Discussing the plan actually turned out to be watching TV until I felt that it was really time to go in. We let my dad know we were leaving, grabbed the hospital bags, the car seat and off we went. I beleive the time was 12:00am. The ride there was calm, and even though the contractions were bothering me I didn't show it because I knew if I showed the pain now I was a wuss because things were only going to get worse. On the way there a cop pulled out of the old jewlery store on route 1 and followed us for quite some time. In my mind I was daring this cop to pull us over but I forgot not all cops are like the pigs in south portland. Though he did follow us for quite some time he eventually turned around as we entered South Portland. The hospital wasn't always a nice place to go. I felt stupid as we approached the counter and told them I was going into labor, they looked at me doubtfully but non the less retreived a wheel chair. Justin was quite dissapointed they didn't let him wheel me all the way to the birthing center. I swear, even though I stayed there for a few days I will still never learn my way around that hospital. They checked my vitals, some stupid on call nurse was kind enough to scare the shit out of my by saying I did a bad job on my diet considering I had gestational diabeties and I was almost tempted to throw something heavy at her within my reach as she continuously checked on me. My mom and sister arrived to offer some comfort; I remember telling my sister earlier that I only wanted Justin to be in the room. Nothing personal but I wouldn't be able to deal with more than one person I really loved to focus on, that and the fact that I knew the nurses were going to harass me to push and that was gonig to piss me off. They stayed for some short time, sipping their coffee nervously but soon went home to try and get some sleep before it all happened. By 2am the contractions were worsening, conviniently I got the tub room so I tried out the neat looking jacuzzi. Little jets on the side, a nice big roomy tub filled with moderatly hot water was comforting. Minus them actually using the jets, even now I think it's all just for show. I stayed in there for maybe twenty minutes, and beleive it or not it did help the contractions for a little bit but as soon as I changed into those stupid gowns and layed back down the pain continued. Around 3:30 I was gripping Justin's hand as hard as I could the pain starting to get unbarable. I remember my face getting a little sweaty trying to hold back the painful groaning. They happened aruond every minute and the moniter they put on my stomach made me look like I was an earthquake, the needle making mountains upon mountains of humps on the thin sheeted paper. The nurse re-entered with a solution to my pain. I had already expressed earlier my high dislike for needles but a morphine mixed with something else shot was the only solution for me to get as much sleep as I could. Now a shot, we've all got one of those before, a quick sharp pain and it's over, sometimes I wonder why I make such a big deal. So I grabbed Justin's hand and closed my eyes. The second that thing entered my skin it felt like the stuff she was injecting into me was deteriorating my muscles. I gasped and refrained from biting my lip off of smashing my head. Instead I was left out of breath with big tears swelling in my eyes. I felt so childish. Justin said he'd never seen my eyes get so big. After a few minutes of trying not to cry I began feeling the calming effects. Not soon after Justin and I began to drift off to sleep. About 4am. Two hours later I awoke feeling a little better but still having contractions. I ordered some breakfast; Rice crispies, milk and some fruit. Justin made a few phone calls to my family and his and by 9pm the labor began. Now it's all very unclear to me what happened, I was running on two hours of sleep and I was exgausted for some reason. I just remember before I started pushing I was yelling from the pain of every contraction that I got, I could remember listening to my painful cries echo through the two-door exit to my room not caring if anyone could hear me or not. I requested the epidural, out of desperation to aid my horrible pains. By the time I started pushing (or my body started pushing) I was fully dialated and the pain meds could not be administed. I paniced, if it was this painful how much worse could it get? Now with a contraction occuring every minute or two I slept peacefully between each one disregarding anything anyone said. So for four hours I was only half cohearent. I remember the end. I happened to glance i the corner of my eye at a small table on wheels covered with a blue paper thing. I remember panicing, the one thing I feared the most is being cut so the baby could get out. Justin tried to comfort me by saying there was nothing on it, and I beleived him even though he was lying ( I find it more amusing now than before). I would push for ten seconds three times then stop. One of the nurses would incourage me to push again but I seriously had no energy left and it wasn't so much that it hurt it was just tiring. Then my body started pushing on its own when I pushed, if that makes any sense and she kept telling me to go one more. I remember being too tired to be pissed off. The novicane needle was injected to where the baby would come out and I started to like hyperventalate because I knew she was cutting down there, I could feel it but the thought was making me want to throw up. Justin was so great, he kept telling me; "You're doing such a great job, it's almost over" I focused on his voice only and responded with a meek "no". I remember what I meant though. No as in if I was doing such a great job she would already be out but my ability to explain that was a bit off. I remember the final pushes, Justin was holding my hand tightly, I was gasping for air, the nurses were yelling. Suddenly there was a release of preassure, I opened my eyes to see Justin cutting the imbellecol cord, blood squirting. One more push and then she was out. I felt happiness through the releif and exgaustion, I heard her cry, I closed my eyes. She was 20 inches long. She weighed 8.8lbs. She was born at 1:20pm and she was nothing but a beautiful replica of Justin and I combined. It almost wasn't real for a while, everything was over and all I coudl really do was lay there and watch through clouded vision. They gave me some oxy something and after a little while I was awake. I think it was Justin who put her in my arms first. I coudl barely hold her up, and I was almost not aware of the people flooding into my room to see me. I don't remember being moved to another room. I remember a few things after that. Being in the room, everyone telling me they were proud of me, how great of a job I did, how good Justin did, people wanting to see the baby. Justin's mom harrassing everyone to wash their hands, Justin's mom not letting Justins older sister Heidie hold the baby and Justin who watched over the baby for a while and then to me. And I remember the wheat dinner role, the first thing I had eaten since it happened and it was honestly the best thing I've ever eaten in my life. I think by the time we were going to leave I ordered some more but they were out, I ordered them out of dinner roles. Haha. She was a little yellow, Jaundus. Something that has to do with her having a different blood type than mine and my blood cells fighting hers. They were concerned, keeping us there until Sunday afternoon. Those first few days were unnerving. I didn't sleep, I could barely walk or go to the bathroom, when I stood up I couldn't breathe. Breastfeeding was probably more painful than actually giving birth (doubt it but). They woke me up every two hours to feed her, Justin changed her diapers and there was some rest. I sat in the back with her on the way home, freaking out at any little thing that was going on around the car probably making Justin more nervous than he already was. The nurse said I could have anything I wanted when I got out of the hospital so the first thing I got was a Cafe Mocha from Tim Hortons, with more hot chocolate than coffee. Man, it was delicious. THe only thing that left me unsettled was the fact that Justin went in the "Do not enter" part of Tim Hortons. Haha, I love him. So it's been.. A week and a day since we left the hospital and I feel a lot better now, mentally and physically. Though I shouldn't go around saying this but childbirth isn't as bad as everyone says it is. It's a painful in the moment kind of thing but thats all. As for Availia, I've never had so much fun. The lack of sleep doesn't phase me and she is not collicky at all. Though she gets gas pretty bad and I feel bad because I can't do anything about it beside push on her little legs a bit to help releave some of the preassure but other than that the only thing she cries about is the carseat, thats probably because the asshole nurses tried to shut her up when they were putting her in because she was screaming crying. The woman I'm staying with was tempted to hold me back from knocking the nurse out as she pinched Availia's cheeks to silence her. Instead of violence I stared at her with narrowed eyes until we left that part of the hospital. She likes to feed a lot and I would have to say breastfeeding is the best thign to do even though it's probably the most painful thing outside of actually delivering the baby but it goes away eventually. They nurses at the hospital called her a "hoover vacuum" and with that I'd have to agree. Availia sleeps in the bed with us, well I sleep between her and Justin for fear that Justin will crush her in the night, not intentionally of course because he could sleep through an a-bomb going off. It offers me some comfort and I wake up when Justin moves too much on the bed or whenever she moves so pretty much wake up whenever she does. Justin didn't have to go back to work until the end of last week. It's hard, even more so now than it was when I was pregnant. I notice this Post-Partum depression but to an extent. It makes me think about death in a way I never thought about before. To the point where it makes me sick to think about it. All the bad things that could happen to Availia. How much I miss Justin when he's gone is the worst thing. I sleep when she sleeps, or I try to but sleeping a lot also makes me depressed. It's much different from regular depression because no matter how sad I get I'm always spoteful towards Availia. She'll cry sometimes because of gas, and not let me sleep when I'm really tired by staying awake but I don't get mad at her, I don't get frustrated or angry or anything because she needs me and I need to give to her needs whenever she needs anything. Hah. It's fun! Changing her diaper. She pees after we take her diaper off, Justin has been fortunet enough to get hit with projectile poop! Haha, she is a big pooping mechine. She's had doctors apointments, I don't stay in the room when she gets her blood taken, even if it is a heel prick because I can't take it. How I feel when I get finger sticks is just as worse as getting blood drawn any other way. I'm a wuss when it comes to needles though but who cares. Justin holds her while the lab nurse takes her blood. She hasn't needed anything since her Jaundace has gone down but this week we have yet another apointment. It shall be fun. It's nice to have my body back, a boost of self confidence. The big boobs aren't really anything, I don't look at them the same anymore, they're more like bottles attatched to my body and I don't plan on showing them off even though Justin finds them intrieging. Heh, again, I love him. Well that sums up my life so until then I get to be a vegetable and lay around all day with my baby and wait for my love to come home so I can be happy. I am always happy, for Availia, for Justin and for the first time, for myself.

For the first three months, everything was chaotic. I didn't eat as healthy as I should have, I was under way to much stress and mostly it was the stress I put on myself. I felt like the walls had been closing in on me as each month went by and resulting in my defensive attitude things were just too unclear. Then the doctors apointment; You know the one that marks your three months, you get the five tubes of blood taken out, and vaginal inspection. It was when she put the little microphone looking thing up to my stomach did my stomach churn. The herat beat was intense, a fast steady pace that sounded as if I would out of breath. But a heartbeat is a heartbeat, I felt no different. We got to the ultra sound and for once a small enclosed room would offer me some comfort but I think that was because Justin was with me. The woman put something on my stomach that almost seemed to remind me of a computer mouse, as she rolled it around to find the bay. There it was, tucked safely in the back of the placenta. Some ways it grossed me out but whe nI was it move, kick, punch, you know roll around like they do that's when everything changed. It's something the book said what would happen, make it seem more real. Not only did the reality of it al lhit a new sense of calmness would show in the release of my puzzled sigh. I couldn't beleive what I had done in the first three months, all the sugarI consumed. Now it was more like I was a drug addict breaking the habbit of an addictive drug; Wel lthat's what it felt like. Junk food made me happy, and with all the stress being thrown out onto me I ate all the sugar I could not even thinking about the consiquences. My mom was gone, on her way to Florida with her soon-to-be husband. I was happy for her because i nthe 22 years she has spent raising kids she never once took a vacation, not to mention she'd never been out of New England for that matter. And in the long run I was very happy, for her to be away from me. I was in a positive environment now, one with love and support. My mom was always confused how to go about the whole actual "being a mother" because when she was my age her mom was clinically insane and never showed her the affection a child deserves. Thus resulting in her care with us. (deleted paragraphs) We'll see, if I keep this outlook I'll make it. Just stay positive and when things get tough just work right through them just as hard. I ought to gratefully thank this baby when it arrives for giving me such motivation and determination to do something with my life. I feel so much better knowing i have something to live for now, three things. A future, Justin and my baby. I feel better.

It only goes to show how long a happy relationship will last before something so crucial happens that it puts the very minds on the verge of implosion. She couldn't help but stare hopelessly into the blurred corner of her living room. A dire urge to feel a pain other than the one replaying over inside her mind. A thin peice of metal to create a rush with a crimson result had been the first and formost thing to releive such stress, as it had always been. Her hesitation would be for the best, too many things to risk and after all, she had to grow up now. Growing up was the most complicated part of this task on becoming a parent. Different types of responsibilities, not the basic ones like having a job and saving money but putting down the sour candy and soda to make way of the life of how she'd put it, well a hippie. Of course it was a lot harder then it seemed, within the first three months she was experiencing severe depression for one small reason or another, increased amounts of stress and a lack of will to keep all responsibilities top priority. So inspite of the drama that had occured tonight she set aside her vengeful notions to watch movies and eat vegetables. She spoke to him breifly, though her words were few. She wanted right out to tell him how her day was, amusing events that had happened, how she missed him and wished to see him. However the result of that would be him knowing he could get away with what he had done. She had delt with too many who had pulled the same thing and the last thing she would do is put herself through another miserable relationship again. A strange idea had been forming in her mind within the few passing days; An Idea about how the male species was a lot like the developing minds of babies. Testing their limits, seeing what they can and can't get away with. The gift she had been blessed with, thanks to her mother was her ability to seek out a lie within the way someone talks or just simply finding conformation from a reliable source. Something guys had often sneered at within her personality. This whole thing was all over smoking. To this day she dug her nails into the palms of her hands everytime the often cigarette craving would come about. She closed her eyes and drew the physical pain in to cancle out the stress. There were sacrafices she needed to make in order to make this pregnancy work. Rules to abide by; but she put her own rules down. "I will go through this with you". He said when they had first found out the news and she held him to his word. Her quitting smoking cigarettes would be his pain as well as hers but he had only recently offered to comply to this. His promise, his word, and she warned him that this better not have been what she wanted to hear, his response was reassuring. And not even within the first week, a broken promise, a broken trust and leading to her downfall. He seemed to be calm about the whole issue, she however was quite distressed. "The worst thing you could ever do in this relationship is lie to me". There was nothing more to say because the truth that lye in that statement was not to blunt, not too outlandish, only a percise request. After their breif conversation she could no longer watch her movies, only think about the foods that she craved and feel the wound barring deep inside the flesh. Contemplation, forgiveness, anxiety, stress, anger. Either one could apply to the many words being driven through her thoughts. Her eyes sunk low to the ground, she had missed him so much and to come home to the realization of a disaster. What else was there to say? Work would go, hour after hour, in a futile attempt to save for the future. For a life she would hope to privde for her child that she would never remember in her youth. But with a partner stuck in the base of teenage years, and an understanding that transitioning from boy to man overnight was impossible. She figured maybe distance would help this but ultimately she knew it would lead to his unmotivated ways once more. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. Something she would have to realize, even though she was being harsh and demanding for a reason, it will only click when he sees it. It doesn't matter if she already realized and accepted her fate, it would be far longer when he woudl realize his. Agony. The only thing that would cheer her up at this point would be a plate of brownies and fig newtons aside a tall glass of whole milk. The chances of that were slim to none so just the glass of milk would do..

Her eyes narrowed forward, a blank expression indicated her indepth thought. Fustration increased at his absece; he didn't even bother to call and ask about the results. Her emotional state was as unstable as the ice that threatened balance beneath her feet. She could only contemplate her anger and somehow find a way to make it through a long and endless day of serving hostile christmas shoppers. Was this a good idea? Something told her not to just to such harsh accusations, so she bit her lip in agony and got in the car.

It's been a while and yet I feel it is best to empty my thoughts, I always feel better after anyway. I would spend a lot of my un-spare time staring through invisible bars that look out onto the swarming holiday consumers, giving in to their every requestl; mostly strawberry-banana or some creation that takes more than five minutes of their shopping time to make. No "thank you" just a measly comment about how expensive it is and an unwated penny tossed into the glass jar. Pennies I use to help people pay for pretzels. I think of it as giving back to those and maybe someday getting back kindness in return. From November 26th to December 24th, there is no such thing as patience, kindness, gratitude. Only hostility. I wonder what ever possesed me to ever want to work back at the mall again, considering it hadn't changed since the last time I worked there. My thoughts would linger from various memory as I awaited the next demanding shopper, all thoughts of course would end in him. I hold some company from my crew, a talkative bunch, they keep me well entertained and busy to forget such an anxious notion. A former employee I worked with there two years ago has come back to work the endless shifts with me. I find comfort in her presence, remanising on memories, the trouble we caused when the manager wasn't there, the trouble we still seem to create when the manager isn't working. It's all fun and games, and I wonder if I really am ready to become an adult, am I at that frame in mind or am I still a child. I spend most of my nights now at home, without Justin; a drastic transition compared to about a month ago. Falling asleep with him every night and waking up to him every morning. Unacceptable behavoirs would not be tolarated by my sanity, I could only bare the wrath of drunken psychotics for so long. It was always the constant need to get drunk or high, but towards the end of our stays I began to despize them both. I enjoy pot once in a while, I miss the constant high but a new realization had dawned on me. I absolutely hate it when Justin gets high, and I feel so uncomfortable around him. The effect creates an invisible barriar between us, created by both intoxicated minds only leading to my frustration in which I have no idea how to express when I'm high, I can't enjoy it. Some things I can like, somethings I don't. It's a once in a while thing anyway, only smoking with our younger friends carefree friends. I haven't had a single shot since my encounter with whiskey, just the thought creates a gap in my stomach and I feel as if I would vomit. I am quite aware that there is nothing being missed out on, except the ability to tolerate other drunken people around you. Besides my motherly-instincts I find them rather entertaining. I know I will eventually adapt to Justin's behavior when smoking, after all, I don't absolutely hate it. In the end I end up blaming him instead of taking a step back and realizing the wall that is formed between us could be from me as well. That is the game I guess. I lose. A constant roller-coaster is still just as continueous with my mother and I. A struggle to not push eachother over the edge is always in play. My mood has and will always form off of hers, only being older I have the ability to control it a little better. Only a few mental-episodes had resulted from my biting my tongue but it seems better. Yet sometimes it takes more than spoken for to release my truth and reasoning onto her. There are too many risks involved. My sister is constantly in my thoughts as well. I worry. She was so naive and unaware, I didn't understand how considering she was so wise and smart. Getting pulled over with illeagal plates, no insurance, no licence, operating after suspension, and un-perscribed anti-anxiety pills found in the middle consol of her jeep. I don't think she wants to acknowledge that when her court date rolls around the result will be a hefty amount of jail time. She tries hard to dis-regard the memories of previous visits to jail, for the same reasons, I would too. She was so young when she went through all of that, being kicked out of the house when she was fourteen with no where to go and having drugs take ahold of your life until you were twenty. She is lucky to be where she is now and not dead from an OD like 60% of her other friends. I remember those days too well, even for my age, I saw that it was wrong but I always saw the reason behind it. Life was too hard, there were too many hurtful memories, your own mother abandons you with no reason and you feel like you are the culpret but at the same time, what did you do to deserve such heartache? I beleive 95% of troubled children result from a poor up-bringing. Meeting so many kids like my sister, in very similar situations, I take pity but sit back and watch helplessly. For so long I got involved with that crowd, trying to help them in any way I could, my attempts would often go unnoticed, unappreciated and I took it out on myself for not being able to help them. As time went by I realized that no one cares about me and the only person that is going to help me survive is me. I am deep in thought as I sit outside in the fridig cold, a cigarette pressed tightly between my fingers. I am only saddened by my thoughts when I am alone, thinking of all my worries and troubles. Yet none of those troubles are ever about myself; Always about other people. My family in particular, and mainly Justin. I often think that he will leave me someday and that I was nothing more than a play toy, like all of the others. Sometimes tells me it wont happen, my insecurities scream at me until I think other wise. I have never loved one person more than I love him, sometimes I am appauled by how much I miss him at times. The cigarette gets to be about half gone and I struggle to not shiver, the cold eats away my body heat. I take a drag and my lungs make funny sounds, the smoke gives my asthma more of a reason to fill my lungs will green masses of death to the point where pockets of air get trapped on the way up and only a deep breath would release them. My attempts to stop smoking these cancer-sticks would go in affect for a few days, the most two and then I would have atleast one. Cigarettes had been a coping skill, I used cigarettes to not cut, to not cry, to not break windows or walls. The void would have such an emotional impact I feat sometimes that I would go insane. The only way I'd ever quit is if I was pregnant. Pregnancy is something that is common in my life. I lean against the counters and stare onto the great plains of maine, watching herds of beasts stampede through every passageway. Only the offspring would catch my attention. A happy feeling would emerge from seeing their innocence, their beauty, their wandering eyes and their movements. If you only knew what kind of world you really lived in. I would then look at the mother's and most of the time the happy feeling would vanish. Seeing their neglect and carelessness, their main focus being the people around them. The way they stuck their kids on leashes or harnesses, jerked them harshly by the arm as to scold them, screaming at them for doing something wrong. This would create a pit in my stomach, I promised myself long ago I would never treat my child like that. I had learned from all of my mothers mistakes. I had read many things on ways to raise children and formed them into my own ideas. All I know is I would be the happiest person, even at my age, to have a child. I would accept this responsibility and think of it not as a burden but as a gift, the gift I had pined for even since childhood. You couldn't have that ideal lifestyle anymore, a house, white pickett fence, a dog, and a car. That was for the 1970's. Today's day and age people have to struggle to the very edge of their nerve to survive, only the rich would be able to afford college, a decent job. The kids without money would struggle to find happiness, realize their fate, drop out and try to make a living for themselves. Money was such an evil thing and I often wished that I lived in the stories I had written where theonly survival was against demons and monsters. All I knew is that the day I find out I bare a child I will never stop working to give my child the life I never had, the life where your presence is always welcome no matter what the mood I was in, no matter how much money we had, no matter how much I missed Justin, no matter how much I wanted to turn frustration into intoxication. I would die for the chance to raise a child who turned out grateful for the effort we put in on putting food on the table, cloths on their body, a roof over their head and the mindframe to stay in school and work for a decent education just knowing there was unconditional love. Unconditional love. The subject of "pregnancy" would always occur, Justin and I had been trying for some time and I was late last time. My hopes were so high that when we found out I was not it felt like a stake was driven through my heart. I notice little things here and there now, make observations, I am emotionally fucked up anyway so I can't tell if these mood swings are from my disorder or actually the sign. Maybe I haden't eaten well in the past week but food had never smelled so good like it did today, I was constantly obbsessing over the smell of melted cheese on moistening bread or the smell of pretzels coming out of the steamer. Maybe just a sentimental mood, maybe not. I would keep my mouth shut until the 15th and then we would see. The only thing I have to go on right now is I usually have cramps a few weeks before my period, I have had none. In reality that is nothing to go on but in my book it is cause for some hope and cause for suspicion. I purse my chapped lips now and feel them burn. The cold air would cause redness around my lips, a wind burn if you would, and a minor amount of dis comfort. Non the less I would use Justin's chapstick religeously until it went away. I think of him again. He called me at work when he got home from snowboarding, that made me happy. He said to call him when I got home, I did, and then another time but the phone had been shut off. Naturally I think; He shut it off he doesn't want to talk to me. And then I tell myself to shut up and reasure that he only had three hours of sleep the previous night and would most definately be exghausted by his eventful day. Comforting at the most, it didn't help how much I missed him. I would only smile and close my eyes. Sleep would fade in and out, depending on the noises that occured outside my mind. Seven cats moving about the house. In all, the comforting smell of the christmas tree, the warmpth of my blankets, my blankly within my arms, and knowing I would be able to hold my love soon enough was comfort enough to lead my battered mind into my dream world.

Time started [2:17am] My whole life has all come down to this. I love you so much, what did I ever do to make you hate me so much. Worse than Angel. You tried for so long to have me but why, why did you hate me. I know the truth. I am here because you get money for me, I am here because if I stay here then you get money. I am a paycheck to you. I love you so much, why am I only a paycheck to you? Why don't you care? You have given me everything as a child, all that I could have wanted but you never knew how to give me the emotional support. I remember you saying "your father use to do terrible things to you, and use to say terrible things to you". It's a lie. I know the truth. I realize it right now. Whenever I did something bad you would say "I'm going to call your father" you would tell him what I did and he wouldn't know what to do. YOu would be mad. MADD. Mad that he wouldn't do anything so you would say "So you're just going to let her get away with this" you would scream. I only remember the things you did, I use to hide form you. Not my dad, from you. He would yell at me because YOU told him to yell at me.You made me like this. You made me hate myself. I was always doing something wrong. I'm always doing somethign wrong. I hate myself because you hated me. When I was little, you use to yell at me for not doing things, when I was 12 you would make me feel so guilty for not doing something. Mom, if you wanted me to do the dishes then you should have asked me "Brittney can you do the dishes" I would have done them. Anything you asked me to do I would do it, I would have done anything for you. Cleaning my room was one thing I didn't like to do. Because my room was my safe spot. My room was my own space, everything in it was mine, I felt safe on my bed, with my door shut. Even though there were cloths everywhere, once I stepped into that room after fighting with you and the door was closed I was safe. Dad didn't know how to be a father, you were too young and immiture to be a mother. You hated us because we stopped you from being able to be a teenager, stopped you from being able to go out and drink, because that was important to you. Your time, time to yourself is the most important thing. Dad loved you and he would do anything for you, even yell at his own kids, hit his own kids. He was mean to Angel because he wasn't her dad, he didn't know how to take that. You've made it so he can't see his kids anymore, and you wonder why you don't have your free time. Dad still pays childsupport like you want. Child support. You use to get so mad at me for being excited when food stamps came because that meant you were poor. You didn't want kids. Why did you have us, if we really made your life so miserable why did you have us. Why did you have me. When I am around you, my moods alter to yours, I try to do everything in my power to please you but it's never enough. It never is. You tell us we are ungrateful, I am grateful for everything you have ever done for me but what I don't understand is why you hated me so much. Why I've come to hate myself now, I am ugly, I am stupid, because you make me feel that way. Why am I only a peice of paprer that grants you $60. That is how much I am wourth, that is how much I feel. Like $60. When I am having mental episodes like these mom, like I am having right now. Sitting downstairs crying. That is what you always use to say "FEELING SORRY FOR YOURSELF" you would always say that when I cried. When I embarressed you, you shut me in that truck. I sat there for two hours, feeling ashamed. For what? For EMBARRASSING YOU. It was always my fault, never yours. MINE. Where did I learn hitting. I did'nt learn it from Angel, do you want to know another secret? I learned hitting FROM YOU. I don't ever remember dad hitting me. EVER. You use to punish me, you use to HIT me. Because I did something wrong. I always DID SOMETHING WRONG. And now more than ever I hate myself. Because you don't want the kids too see me. You don't want them to follow my road. You did nothing at all. I was born a fuck of, I was meant to fuck up your life. I choose to go down these paths because I am stupid and I am a burden. WELL IM SORRY. Everytime I am in one of these episodes I find myself repeating words over and over "CLEAN THIS FUCKING MESS" "I HATE YOU" "SHUT THE FUCK UP AND STOP CRYING" "IF YOU DONT GET IN YOUR ROOM RIGHT NOW IM GOING TO-" I remember when I got old enough to stand up for myself. I remember when you didn't get a job in redbank that year we got evicted, the year I was supposed to go to my first year of middle school, you said it was dad's fault. Your back didn't hurt back then mom, yo uoculd have GOT A JOB. WHEN YOU HAVE KIDS YOU DO EVERYTHING YOU CAN TO ENSURE THEIR FUTURE, YOU WORK YOUR ASS OFF, YOU WORK THROUGH THE PAIN. I have no right to say this. I am a bad kid, how dare I blame this all on you, I'm the one who chose to drop out of school, I'm the one who is putting myself in this situation. You're right mom. And what would the family think? I wonder if you fear their judgement above all. You don't want them to see another fuck up in the family. Now I wonder, why two of your kids decided to take these paths. The two oldest who saw everything before you really did GROW UP. Oh I remember, the day I got in trouble, guilty by assosiation. You grounded me. I remember that day perfectly. You came home from Dillon's baseball game. "SLUT, YOU STUPID FUCKING SLUT" "YOU HANG AROUND WITH HIM, I KNEW IT, I JUST KNEW IT. YOU FUCKING CUNT!" And you screamed it again. "YOU FUCKING CUNT". Now at the time, I took offence to this word. "Don't be upset hunny, your mom doesn't mean it, she's just mad". That is what dad would always say. "She's mad she doesn't mean it". Then I realized when I started getting mad I said things I didn't mean. I realized, that is what you did. That was bad. I had to punish myself. I couldn't hit myself with a wooden spoon, or backhand myself. THe first time I ever cut is the night I came home from hanging out in the VFW and I came home on a little stunt bike riding the pegs. I gave Pappy a hug and went inside, with a deep pit in my stomach knowing that you would be there waiting. I came inside. "YOU FUCKING SLUT! WHY ARE YOU LATE" And you THREW ME against the wall, and, you grabbed me by the neck. I could feel your rage. So I cried, and I felt so ashamed of myself for letting you down again. Of course you always thought I was out doing drugs, you always thought I came home high. From 6th grade until I moved out the first time, I moved out freshman year. Guess what mom, I even try pot until I was a sophomore. A SOPHOMORE! YOu would SCREAM at me for coming home, you would always question me about my eyes, you wouldn't beleive me NO MATTER WHAT. And I lied to you about little things, why? Because the one thing I have feared for my entire life, everything I do falls back upon this one result. YOu getting angry with me. That is all I have ever known is you being angry with me. And if you did something I didn't like and I got mad, you would be mad at me for being mad. When you tried to be nice and I was still mad, you would get even more mad at me. When I did something and I tried to be nice when you were mad, you would say it wasn't good enough. Then when I was mad at you and I didn't let you know, when you are nice to me I can't be mad at you because deep down inside mom I love you more then anyone on this planet, except for Angel and Dad. I can replay the past over and over in my mind until my head is pounding but I'll never understand why you hated me. You always snapped at me, and whenever I did it to the kids you would be SO MAD. YOu would YELL. You would yell at me. But if was perfectly fine for you to snap at the kids, you're their mother, not me. But I swear on my life mom, I will be the best mother my kids will ever come to know. And NEVER EVER will they have to live a life that I did. "Oh because you lived such a terrible life, I made your life a living hell, you ungrateful kid how the fuck could you say that about your own mother. Do you know how much it hurts me?" You say. I remember it all. I remember when I wrote a letter, about how you were using dad, but I was too naive to know what was really going on, I walked to dad's house. I ran away. You told me if I didn't come back you woudl call the police. I left the note on the kitchen table right by empty plate of food that you made for lunch. You picked me up and you talked to me. Convinced me that I was the one in fault here, not you, I had no reason to be angry with you. When we got home I tried to get the letter before you saw it, but you grabbed it from me. "That was just me feeling sorry for myself" I said. After you finished reading it you looked at me and said "Yeah, it was". I wish you could have been the mom you are now to me when I was younger. I am only trying to proove my point. I don't want to hurt your feelings and if I a choice I wouldn't show you this but you have to know. You have to know why I am the way I am. You don't care though, if I try at all to expose the real you, you would kill me. I got frustrated one day because I asked for a ride and you wouldn't give me one, walking to Bruce's house would have been so far. You got home and GOT MAD AT ME FOR EVEN ASKING. So instead of blaming myself I stood up formyself and did what I had seen you do every day of my life. You slammed things. I slammed things, I threw the phone. You noticed this and looked at me. "LOOK AT YOU! YOU'RE HAVING WITHDRAWELS! IM CALLING YOUR FATHER AND YOU'RE GOING TO THE HOSPITAL" You sent me there once before and you knew, you knew I was scared to death of places like that. I was so alone, so alone, and you left me there because you didn't want to deal with what you created. A monster. I am a monster.And you tried to silence me for so long but at the same time I know, you were trying to help. But you figured if I could stay on the medication you could control me better and I was thinking if I stayed on medication maybe I wouldn't dissapoint you so much. The medication fucked up my life, the medication made me want to kill myself. The medication YOU MADE me take was the reasoning I tried to kill myself six times. And in the end of every attempt of trying to hang myself I would cry, maybe because I was feeling sorry for myself. Yeah I think that's why, well that's what you would say anyway. Back to my story. YOu shut me in my room and for the first time my room was no longer safe, I didn't feel the comforting warpmth from my blankey, or blankets. I did what I had seen you do a few time. I threw my fists in every direction knowing things over, punching my shelf, knowing over the fan. I was so sorry for everything I did, I was so mad at myself for being this way infront of the kids but there was nothing I could do, the rage was so intense I dind't know how to control it. So I threw on my coat and walked from one side of town to the other in the cold snow. I wasn't mad at you for not giving me a ride, all along I was mad because I didn't take care of it earlier. Mad at myself for not doing what you always told me to do, plan ahead. And then I get to Bruces, I am with someone who I thought loved me, someone who I thought actually cared, I felt safe with him. Dad pulls up because you called him AND YOU TOLD HIM TO GET ME AND BRING ME TO THE HOSPITAL AND HE DID, HE DID IT FOR YOU. IF HE HAD A CHOICE HE WOULDN"T HAVE SHIPPED ME AWAY, HE WOULD HAVE TAKEN ME OUT TO GET SOMETHING TO EAT AND TALKED CALMLY WITH ME. The truth is, you gave me everything I wanted. You provided me with a life, you made sure there was food on the table and presents under the tree. You made SURE DAD WAS WORKING FOR THAT MONEY HE HAD TO GIVE YOU IN THE CHILD SUPPORT. I remember after EVERY christmas you would scream at us for making a mess "PICK UP YOUR FUCKING MESSES OR EVERYTHING IS GOING BACK TO THE STORE" "YOU UNGRATEFUL FUCKING KIDS YOU TREAT ME LIKE SHIT AFTER ALL YOU GOT". A more recent memory. Christmas at that same house. I wouldn't open my presents until Dad got there because it meant something to me, every christmas since I was little he woudl always be there, watching me with a smile on his face at how happy we were at what we got and he would still laugh if we had even a hint of dissaproval. I could write down everything youcould say to this, because I've heard it all before but I have never confronted you will every single detail that haunts my every waking memory. I love Justin, he makes me feel safe, he wont ever hit me or yell at me and I know, for once he really does love me. He really does. That night I asked you if he could stay, it took a lot of courage to ask if he could and I offered even to sleep on the same couch. You could have said "No, I'm sorry, I don't want the kids to see it" instead your explination went along the lines of "ABSOLUTELY NOT! WHat are you thinkikng? I'm just going to let you have guys sleep over here all the time? I know you're not use to rules Brittney but when you're here you're going to have some boundaries". You're right, I didn't have rules, I choose to hang out with my friends and smoke pot every day for four months. Do you know why though? Because for once in my life I was happy, I had no cares, no worries, no means of responsibility, as long as I had enough money to buy more and feel like that I was fine. To top it off this is when I first started dating Justin, I could stay with someone who loved me and who wanted to be with me. That is why I get so emotionally attatched to guys, because I just want to be loved. If dad every showed too much compassion towards us you would get mad at him so he would stop, for you. You would make him feel terrible, telling him that babying us would only make us think we could get away with more. And knowing you have such control over someone, it must be nice. I remember watching Tom and Jerry, sitting in my PJ's on the living room floor. YOu asked me to do something. I was probably about five. I didn't do it, for some reason or another I stayed and sat there. I remember you running in, I saw you and ran away screaming, screaming NO! I saw it on a cartoon, when the cartoon said no and the other cartoon heard how scared it was then he stopped. I tried it, I was scared, I jumped onto the couch, then I ran for the door, you grabbed me by my stomach and threw me back to themiddle of the floor and back handed my bottom so hard. You back handed me once for giving you attitude, you were being mean to me, I was on the computer, we lived on broadway by Crestglass. I gave you a slight attitude, you got in my face and I just stared at you. And you back handed me. I never saw it coming, and instead of hitting you back like my reactions were begging me too, I cried. I cried and ran into my room. You stood at the door and screamed "YOU NEED TO STOP FEELING SORRY FOR YOURSELF". So every time I cried, even when I was very little, I was convinced it was because it was my fault, I shouldn't be crying, and I was only feeling sorry for myself. Crying was bad, I had no reason to cry, I had no reason to feel the way I did. That kind of behavior was punished and when I thoguht I knew I was feeling sorry for myself I cut. I cut because it was a proper way of punishing myself, and the pain from it afterwards felt so good. I don't know why, when it hurt to the point where I felt like I would cry I would grit my teeth and endure the stinging sensation, telling myself I deserved it and gripping tighter to make it hurt more. At the beginning of this page I was crying, crying so hard I smothered myself with a pillow to keep you from hearing. I feared that you woudl wake up before I had a chance to type it all out. Everytime I tried to fight back you woudl always scream over me and tell me you had nothign to do with it and that it was my fault. I have realized this for a while too, maybe this was how you were brought up, maybe your mom treated you the way you treated me and Angel. You want to know why Angel is fucked up, because her dad was never around so she only had you to learn from. You want to know why she is selfish hearted, because in reality you were selfish hearted. And also the drugs she did in her past increased this psychosis. Do you want to know why I didn't end up like either of you? Because I stopped. Ever since I was little, I stopped and thought "maybe there is another side to this" and I observed people, I watched them because I didn't know how to act. I was always getting in trouble so maybe if I watched other people I could learn to be more like them. And it got to the point where I didn't know who I was, I didn't know how to act, whgat to say, who to be like, where I fit in. So I ended up not fitting in anywhere, and my mind was constantly piling with questions that needed answers but no one there to help me answer them. I adapted to this chaos and learned to find answers for myself. I didn't know how to act because everything I did was bad. When I whistled, I use to do it all the time. I loved music, it set the mood to everything. I use to sit there and whistle all day. Then one day you told me to stop, it was kind of a habbit and it helped me keep busy and out of your way, so I went outside. I sat on the pourch outside and you screamed out the window "STOP FUCKING WHISTLING". So I started to go to Shanny's house. I had so much fun there, I was always off on my own exploring the woods, going to the pond and watching turtles and going fucking with Cameron. I remember sitting in the kicthen there and since you weren't around I was whistling. Shanny came by the doorway and said "Stop whistling" so I stopped and for a moment I got it in my head that whistling was a bad thing. Then she came back and put her hand on my shoulder and smiled, "you don't have to stop whistling I was just making fun of your mother, I heard her yell at you for that, it's rediculous" and that liberation right there is where it all started. I love Angel more than anything in this world, she is my big sister and I look up to her the most. YOu always said I was going to end up like her and in a way you were right, we both needed to get the hell away from you because as we grew older we realized that it wasn't us. Of course Angel realized it far before I did. Mind games. She knew your tricks, figured them out, and began to rebel. See the only kids we found fit to hang out with were the kids who didn't care how you acted or how you dressed, the kids that gre up in the same environment as us just worse than us. We were never good enough to be popular. The popular kids in my school are another factor in why I hated myself, because I never had enough money to buy pretty cloths or revealing cloths. I never blamed you for that because I knew far before that, that money didn't mean a thing, expensive things didn't mean a thing. Even though I wanted some of the things that they had I stuck with what I got because dad worked hard for the money and I didn't want to be ungrateful. Angel moved out at such a young age and you told me she wanted to leave. I was told by everyone else, another story, but that came later. Way after the things you told me about how she left to do drugs, disobayed everything anyone said. I grew disgusted of my sister because of all the things that you told me she did, and I beleived you. Then I wrote a letter to her, addressing strong points and how dissapointed I was with her. She read them and she cried. "I cried so hard knowing that this is what my little sister thought of me, but in reality that wasn't anything close to the truth". The truth is you kicked her out because you didn't want to deal with it, you didn't want to take responsibilities. THE SAME THING YOU DID TO ME ONLY THEY HAD A NEW WAY OF DOING THAT, SENDING ME TO HOSPITALS. I couldn't sit in my room for more than 20 minutes alone, I didn't have a free space, I didn't feel safe anywhere. I did was I was told because I knew if I did that then I would get out of there sooner. No but you kicked her out, and expected our family to deal with it but how does relatives deal with a child that is not their own, how is the child support to deal knowing their own mother, the one who had them and raised them had given up on them and shipped them away. How was she supposed to deal with the fact that you abandoned her? With so much pain and so much anger, she tried drugs at a young age, not old enbough to even acknowledge the dangers and consiquences she tried them and loved them. The only thought running through her mind was, it's cool, I feel good, I don't hurt anymore, the people I'm with care about me and I am happy. The truth was the people she was with didn't really care about her but the attention she got from them was enough. I know because I felt the same way, Angel never had the ability to stop and think about what she was doing, never had the ability to see both sides to it. I knew that the people around me didn't care about me so I didn't do drugs as much as I wanted too, and sometimes I would sum up and convince myself that they did and when they betrayed me it hurt worse than anything I had ever felt. I never took it out on you though mom, I took it out on the kids, just like Angel took it out on me. She tried to be the nice sister to us and I feel bad for being such a horrible child but I was young and I wasn't a mean kid because I was born that way. You wouldn't be anywhere if it wasn't for Dad, you wouldn't have ANYTHING AT ALL if it wasn't for dad. He may not be there for us emotionally, but he is the most hard working father I have ever seen in my entire life. You wouldn't have the nice things you have if it wasn't for Dad, some of them are from us and Craig but the things from us, the money we spent to get you those things were from DAD. This is why I don't stay mad at dad, the only reason I speak badly of him is to please you. However after everytime I speak badly of him I hurt myself in some way because I realize it's not true and what I am doing is bad. I shoudl be old enough not to bad mouth my father after all he's done for us. Mony and Grampy are right, Dad is the reason for a lot of things. Where would we be if he wasn't here? You would be forced to get a job, and we would never hear the end of it, you would bark at us for nbot being grateful or not doing what you say because you just went out and worked. DAD HAS WORKED AT THAT FUCKING SHIT WHOLE SINCE I WAS LITTLEI wish only for peace.

The air was freezing, the walk home from the mall was always agonizing. Whether it be the length of the jounrey, the traffick of the temperature. Justin and I walked along the sidewalk, I had never had such a great time with one person under limited circumstances. We had walked around the mall for a couple hours looking at possible christmas preasents for our family, or atleast I was anyway. I had decided that I would use one pay check that I got from work towards preasents and save the rest towards our apartment fund. He said he would work just as hard as I was going too. I was getting another job ontop of the one I already had, more of a morning job. He would work at FedEx and make 12.50 an hour, some company where he unloads ships atleast a couple times a month and make 13 dollars an hour and work with his dad in the flooring business where he would make 250 a day. It was all about following through with these ideas now because the plan was to get our apartment in January. I wasn't sure how long I could live sleeping on my mom's couch and not having my own space. We tooka pit stop at Bob's Discount and priced furnature that we would buy for our apartment. It was decided we would get the most expensive bed, a Bob'o'Pedic and split the cost. That bed was beyond sleeping on clouds and I could only imagine how nice it would be to sleep on such a thing. I was more excited about the idea of having our own room and our own space for that matter. He told me we would get married when he was 21, we would have our honeymoon in Hawaii and then by the age of 30 we would have our own house. I share these dreams and hopes with my sister and she snickers. "You really think you two will be together for that long? Especially getting married so young, all the couples that do that get divorced within the first two years". I smile and shake my head. No one will ever really understand how Justin and I are together. His personality is most compadible to mine. He wants to get married and have kids, he's always wanted to find love at a young age and keep it until he grew old. I also have shared the same wishes but in the past we both had been screwed over by the most mis-leading of people. This is why I'm happy I'm with him, he is honest and loyal to me and I shall be in return to him. Even his family has noticed how happy he is, which makes me happy. I would be just as happy but unfortunetly I'm a girl and the emotional part gets the best of me time to time as it always had. He doesn't mind my bipolar spells, he puts up with my moods swings, because in reality we are the same person. As I said before I am so content to the point where I do not regret the mistakes I've made in the past because I'm making up for it all right now. So with this epiphany running through my mind I beleived I was getting older each day, trying to catch up to the mentality of a mature adult. That is what I want. Out of the three months we've been together we have not once fought, which is surprising to me because in my family the females have a tendency to fall out of line and forget their place. Another thing I love about being me, I am not as crazy as my family. Infact I think I was the only sane person to result from past experiences. Justin doesn't make me crazy, he wants to be with me everyday and he hates not being around me. He says I'm always on his mind and he is crazy about me; I believe it and he gets bonus points for those comments. I can only imagine how happy we'll be in the next few years. We'll have kids, a nice house, granted we'll have to work our asses off to maintain what we want and have but it will all be wourth it and I know we are fully capable of doing it. I sit outside and let the breeze run through me, I am more relaxed as ever despite the cold temperature. This morning had been a little hectic; being picked up right as I woke, dropping Justin off, running around doing arronds with my sister and now it had payed off. The plan was to sit on my ass all day until Justin got out of work, then get some alcohol and go to the party. However, for a change, this party would be elsewhere besides Sarah's. There's only so much I can take of people who don't hold a ranking in my mind like Justin does. Even Shawn, having been around him way more then Justin so far, I have now started to get irritated with him. Comments that are said which piss me off so much. "You know Brittney, you don't have it so bad" he'll say. Although he complains so much about how bad he has it but yet there is no attempt to be made to fix any of it. It's people like that, that put me down without a care are the people I don't want to be around. Sarah even makes me mad from time to time. When she gets drunk she thinks she can control anything, which that position is rightfully hers because it is her apartment but she goes a little overboard when she's drunk; which is all the time. Justin will be too loud for a couple seconds and she'll come up to him and punch him in the face. I stand and only let the anger rise because if I stepped up to her it would be a struggle and I know Justin wouldn't want to see that. There is a benifet to wrestling guys and watching Sarah and Corey fight. I don't need to take part in something to learn the techniques, I'm always watching though. If I were to get into a fight, regardless of the size and age of the person I would have the advantage of being quick and small. Now my shots wouldn't be as powerful as I would want them to be but I could put in some damage, I've prooven that in the past. Fighting was the last thing on my mind, I needed some motivation to get through the day quicker. Tomorrow I would work from the afternoon to close, which will indeffinetly be the most agonizing thing in the world. Weekends are always chaotic in the mall, especially near and after thanksgiving and I was going to work there until February. Though it wont be bad, 7 dollars an hour, about 30 hours each week not to mention another job ontop of that which will be also 7 dollars an hour. You figure I spend one or two paychecks on christmas and save the rest and I'll be allset. Things seemed to be looking up and if I kept a cool frame of mind they would run smoothly until the real fight began.

Everything's a mess and there's no turning back now.

I stood outside and let the cold take all my body heat until I shivered helplessly. The stinging sensation in my limbs left me content on the outside. In my mind I was screaming. I was gasping for air, and my cries were only heard by the one who cared the most. He had gone home not too long ago and I was alone once more. Nothing could explain my emotional state, so many reasons for it and the one that was eating me the most was a horrid thought to have to live with everyday. It has been almost two weeks since I have moved back in with my mom and already I want to leave. Two weeks ago I called my mom to talk to her and she said all my stuff was on its way to her house and I would be staying with her. The thought of having a home where I would be comfortable in was actually comforting. Now, two weeks later I realize my mother's true intention. She had said something about it to me but I never thought anything of it until now. I was here so she could get more child support money. I asked her tonight if Justin could stay if he didn't have a ride home, I told her I would sleep on a seperate couch. She could have just said no and I would have understood but instead she went on and explained how I went a long time without rules and boundaries living with my dad and now they needed to be enfourced. She said she was trying really hard to make it so her last three kids would not go down the same road my sister and I have gone down. Of course she added in that she didn't want me to think I was a bad influence. I could see where she was coming from, and I wasn't upset because I wasn't getting my own way. I don't know why I am so upset so I sit and continue to think. And always in the end of my thoughts I am overreacting. I have no reasoning so bve upset and it's all because I am a hormonal teenager. But still the pit in my stomach resides and I want cut the pain away more then I ever have before. Fighting back the tears right now is so hard, and as I try my head pounds and my eyes water. I resort to biting my lip and eventually it splits, I am distracted by the metallic taste in my mouth only until I realize that the cut is not that bad and then my thoughts continue. The only time I am free from this agony is when i am with Justin. I keep trying to tell myself, in time this will pay off. I don't find the justification in time, knowing my purpose in this house and knowing the only reason I am here is so my mother can get money and so she wont look bad. I cradle my knees with my arms, rocking back and fourth on the soaking wet pourch, the rain drizzles onto my neck but I still dont' cry, I don't scream or react. I just stare helplessly into the blurry oblivion infront of me. I want to die now. The lump in my throat exeeds the limit and my fists clench. I dig my nails into the palms of my hands and breath heavily. If no one can see me then I am okay. When I turn 18 my purpose will be gone, I will be tossed aside like a paycheck stub and this time I will be all alone. This is how I have felt my entire life. Alone, scared, and not enough seratonin to get me through the day. So I resort to insanity, no one witnesses it, and I am drowned by thoughts. No one, alone, forget. I need the will to work through this. I pray for the stregth to get through this, I pray for freedom and I pray for the determination. And I pray that someday when my mom looks back she will feel the guilt. In her mind she has done nothing wrong, she is a perfect mother. I am the reject, I am the disobedient child, I am the emotionally disturbed, wourthless dropout who only cares about herself. And this is why I hate myself. This never ends so all I have left is to pray.

No punk, goth or dikes. First of all it's dykes, you self-centered, arrogent, pompous pig. My anger surges for some time as I read an assumed friend's information on MySpace. I don't even know why I let it get to me, knowing how much satisfaction he would get knowing the rise I got out of it. Instead of carrying this on I would smirk. He would never know a real girl. He would often complain and say "I want a girl that will treat me nice, a nice girl". For a supposed intelligent guy, he really isn't that smart. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see that half the girls who are beatiful and blonde come with the full package. Girls like that are ment to be locked inside a glass display in a museum, they're only good to look at, you get nothing else. I remember that guys are too pig-headed to see this and sigh once more. I am one-hundred percent certain that Justin is the best thing I have ever found. He likes me because I'm different, because I'm too nice, he likes my small boobs, my short hair, my eyes, he has reassured me that I am beautiful. It was guys like Mike that made me want to die, because I wasn't like everyone else and I didn't plan on trying to be something I wasn't. I've always been different, and finally someone who sees me for who I am. It's a releif to know I have found one of the worlds very very very few nice guys. People frown upon the fact that we are certain we will stay together forever. I know if I ever let that kind of guy go, I'll never find another one like him and I never plan on it. He says: "Are you really ready to put up with me for the rest of your life?" I smile and sigh happily. My heart is dead set on it, and my mind as well. I had never been so sure in my life. All the things that I have regretted, I no longer regret. Life is too short to keep pains from the past, insecurities, previous boyfriends who made my life a living hell. Justin has gone through the same exact thing, which assures me more of him. For this I love him with all of my heart. My eyes shift from my stolen pins to my fingers typing on the keyboard. I was anxious; in constant need to keep myself busy in order to make the time pass. I would draw if the animals in my house would stay still for more than five minutes. The turtles are just as restless in their aquatic habbitat. My mother and her boyfriend watch the electronic box behind me. I hate television, and the only time I watch it is when I want to be educated and enlightened by our truthful and strong media. What a thought. The day the media reports the truth In this point in time I am grateful for life. I don't understand why people are so ashamed of food stamps, when you need help find it, when you can get help take it. When you don't need it anymore then give it to someone else who does. My mom's rambling about being ashamed of being in housing and living off of food stamps. I understand, you would want to be living a better life, in a house where you don't have to pay to wash and dry your cloths, where you can sends your kids outside to play in your backyard. That is the ideal place to raise any child. It was the obtainable thing back in 1960 but now? Good luck. I look at it like the caste system; if you were born poor then you're going to struggle unless you're the miracle child that gets through school with pure ambition and determination and makes it to that ideal living. It all comes down to this. I fucked up. I could tell you so many reasons why I did what I did but it wouldn't help my situation any. I'm a dropout because I wanted to become an adult sooner then I was supposed too. I want to get a job and make money, get an apartment and then when I get everything that I need I'll go back to school and work for what I want. Even if pregnancy gets in my way I will find a way to work through it and make sure I give my child the best life and do the things I want to do. See the things people don't understand about me is that I don't want to party. Drinking and smoking doesn't mean anything to me, that is something that everyone says I'll be missing out on. I could care less to be honest. I've seen more than enough of that life and I'm all set. I don't know if Justin is in the same frame of mind as I am but I am set on my ways. Maybe when I'm older and I'm living it up in the ideal life then I'll sit back and have a few drinks and maybe even go out to a few bars, hasta, not for me. My ranting and raving leaves me content. I am alone as I sit in my livingroom, my bed is really a couch, I have no room, I don't have my own space. This drives me nuts and this is the reasoning for me wanting to get a job and get out of here sooner. I turn down the TV, change the channel to Animal Planet and sit by the phone patiently. Antisipation is a bitch but I sigh happily as I think of my day. I love him.

It was intresting, how the flow of people seemed to travel through the mall like fish heading up stream to lay eggs. They were more hostile than anything. The men at the Kiosks reeled you in on a baited hook to view their good. Most fell for it. I retreited this pattern of consuming material objects for an over-rated holiday and hid within the small complex of shelves in the bookstore. I picked up my favorite authors oldest books and drowned out the rest of the world in the pages. My real intention of coming to the mall was to find a job, I needed a fulltime job. The downfall was; they were only hiring seasonal. I wasn't too good at being consistant with a job anyway so when it came time to be cut off then I would be content in finding another one. Finding the motivation to get another job was the hard part. I would spend countless hours pondering where to apply, where to look, how I would get there and all of the obsticles I thought up would set back the determination. It was endless. This constant struggle to thrive in this world today and I blame it on bush and the human race. This world works on greed and consumption of everything. Someone has to own something, people opwn pointless materials that make them feel bigger. I wish the world de-evolved all the way back to the 1900's. Where they got married at 18, had kids, no one ever got divorced, they lived on what they grew, and nothign was so overpriced that everyone ended up homeless. I'd stick with a horse and buggy over a car. The past is over and done with I guess and there's nothing I can do about it except build a time mechine. Yeah. This maddness never dies, I wonder how long this can carry on before I go insane.

And teaming with souls it shall ever be.

They say good things come to those who wait. I say that half the time they're right but it depends on what you're waiting for. My sister waits for what I have already, a love that wont die no matter the flaws or the circumstances. I guess that's how it works when you're an adult. My sister's last boyfriend Joe, the one Justin and I visited and drank with in Gorham, hits my sister. That is all that needs to be said. The thing people need to know about my family is despite how much we fight, bicker, argue, and gossip we stand up for eachother. Drugs would play the most important factor in this conflict, something I have struggled to understand my entire life. The very thing that controls the status of their living. I will never let a substance control my life, such as they have. They had for sometime worked up a system that would ciculate the money and happiness. Another thing I realize; you can't buy happiness. I worry so much for my kin but I know they can only help themselves. There is the occasional help I will put in without them knowing; drive to Gorham and smash in windows with an aluminum bat. Rule number one; You fuck with anyone I care about in the mannor of hurting them physically or mentally, you better want to take a step back and realize what you have. Breaking that rule you will risk your car, your home, your relatives and even yourself. It doesn't matter to me. The best part about that is being my size, I appear harmless, small and meek. There is one gene that carries through my family's bloodline that sets us apart from all the rest. We are crazy and we will risk it all for the ones we love and most important, our pride. The wind was fridgid from the second story balcony, my eyes narrowed to make out the old prison just beyond Youth Center. It's dark and dreary figure stood abandoned and decayed, the bricks aged by water and the harsh winters. For a moment I could relate myself to it's tall broken image, sitting back for years and watching the world around you upgrade and change, evolve to higher standards. The world was changing, people lost sight of loyalty and honesty. People I knew were so naive to what was really going on, what directions they were going. I spent so many years trying to protect the people I cared so much about from something that was inevitable, something they would only find out for themselves. I missed Justin, tonight would be the first night, as far back as I can remember, not waking up to him. It was good to take a break from eachother once in a while but we never fought, we never got sick of eachother. He couldn't stand not being next to me for more then six hours and that was something I had always wanted. We both wanted kids, we never discussed when we were going to have them. So our true intentions of having unprotected sex was so we could try and have a baby. I never expected it to actually happen. All my life I had dreamed of giving the unconditional love I never got as a child and giving my child the life I never had. This set my future at this point, it would be a week before I could take the actual test but we already knew this was just closure. This changed everything. I no longer needed to struggle to go out and find a job, I was on it tomorrow and I wasn't going to stop until I was garunteed one. There was no more smoking pot, no more smoking cigarettes, no more drinking until it was over. A sacrafice I was going to have to follow through with for the benifet of my child. I needed to work hard to fullfill my duty as a parent to provide my child with everything they would need, and I would. Determination. I finally got what I had waited for my entire life and I wasn't going to abuse this privledge. It was all comforting, but at the same time unsettling just as much. What would my parents think? I had mentioned this to my sister already. Justin's parents would probably shoot him. I just prayed that this whole thing would work out.

"Dad can we get some food? I'm kind of hungry." I say as I watch Justin walk up his driveway. "Is there something you want to talk to me about?" He asks, his tension rises and I don't know why. I stop and think for a moment at what he could possible know or have found out, what have I done wrong? The parties at Sarah's were harmless for one, contradicting too if he would have confronted me about them. I didn't know. "What about the Fifty dollar check you stole from Grampy. Brit-" He was the only one now who addressed me as Brit when we was dissapointed and I cringed. "How could you do that? Stealing from your family, do you feel any remorse what so ever?" I stop and think once more. Yes, my actions were noted as deceitful but yet I could find no regret in doing it. SO I would answer honestly. "I did at first but...Not really." "So you're telling me you feel nothing. That is disgusting" He narrowed his eyes in anger through the rear-view mirror. A lump in my throat would grow and I swallowed hard at the bitter truth. I was more ashamed of dissapointing my dad than anything, he did so much for me and this is how I would repay him. No words were spoken the rest of the way home, my eyes traveled the streets and the people that occupied the busy cars lined up in the various intersections.I thought about what I had done and smiled because that was an interesting day more enjoyable than most. He pulled into the plaza down the street from my mom's apartment. "What do you want to eat?" I bit my lip, how could he want to get me food after what I had done? "I'm not hungry anymore" I say. "You haven't eaten and we're here so what do you want" He turned around in his seat. I shook my head and looked down. "No thank you." There was a moments silence and he pulls out of the parking lot. I make a vow to myself, never to ask him for money ever again. I get home and give him a speach I thought up, I say: "Dad the only person I want to apologize to right now is you, because I know what I did was wrong and I let you down. However the reasoning for my lack of remorse is what they have said right infront of me about the people I care about the most and also the anger that has built up in the past year of living there." He almost seemed like he understood, nodding his head and not saying anything in defense of his father. I smiled and thanked him for the ride, with the last 'I love you' I shut the door and walked inside. My thoughts quickly changed to the previous days, I had spent every single day with Justin for the past two months. Waking up next to him was so amazing, because in my mind I was 100% sure I loved him with all my heart. Many a times I had given my heart away to the undeserving, the naive, pig-headed, immiture and untrustwourthy and had been shot down everytime. Thrown away like a useless peice of trash. Now out of two months of dating we hadn't fought once, we saw eachother everyday and he was constantly reminding me of his love for me. For once I wasn't worried about being abandoned or shut down, he was in all honesty just like me. Kind-hearted, he couldn't stay mad at people or hold grudges, his eyes were pure and true of intention and all my trust had been placed in him. He never got jealous of all my other guy friends, infact he was just as good friends with them as I was. We had plans to move into an apartment when Adam got out of a group home. I was hoping that Carl would join us and we would all pitch in to get an apartment together and live as we had been for a month now. Couch hopping from party to party. Yes my group of friends were not the most hard working or the most determined but they managed to get by each day. I did my best to give them fruitful advise and I did what I could to help them, I care too much for other people and not enough about myself. Tonight will be the first night as far as I can remember that I would not fall asleep next to my love and wake up alone. I missed him already. He really was all I thought about during the day, everything I did or said was an indirect thought led to his beautiful eyes. I really did love him.

I'm so god damn full. Taking the bus tomorrow will be fun. Aiight peace!

My last entry is the result of being overtired and not stoned. But I do see what I mean by becoming so emotional and not realizing it until afterwards. Self-medicating is not really a good idea but it works and besides I quit smoking and had my last cigarette like thiry minutes ago. I'm doin ok... Yeah. Justin's birthday party was chaotic but I know how he feels, I remember when my house use to be like that when I had people come over and how my mom use to be but, I miss that. I look back at all the boyfriends I've had and I almost want to beat the shit out of myself for being such a panzy. That was not love, what was I thinking? This is a mature relationship. No head games, no lies, no bullshit, no best friends, no deceit. He is perfect for me and I grew to love him, this is not an infatuation. Food sounds really nice right about now, so I can go in the kitchen and have my grandparents harrass me on how dumb I'm about to act.

I knew it was coming when I was called out of class, I went on break after being late and having it taken away. I didn't care much, I had barely any sleep and my mind was off in another world preventing me from focusing at all. I left the building through the back with all the buses and onto the corner where everyone had their cigarette breaks. I took a right like I was supposed to but after that I was completely oblivious to my destination. I clenched my fist in antispation, the bus would arrive at the assigned spot in ten minutes. I asked a man sitting on a bench with his wife how to get to the corner where Forest street and Congress street meet and he told me the intersections away. I was releived to have some idea of where I was going, however I was still discontent in my travels. Music for me, was the cure for anything. My eyes narrowed on the streets ahead of me, people herded through the crosswalks controled by blinking lights on the other side. Traffic filled the streets with the thick smell of smog, a wonderful thing to fill your lungs with on this cold autumn morning. The frosty wind stung my nose as I attempted to keep my head burried in my hat and hood. I thought of Justin, it was his birthday. I found it entertaining that he started celebrating exactly at 12am, and how much fun we really did have. We had been together almost a month now, and the first couple weeks were the worst for me. Guys had always been deceitful, especially ones that I liked. I aquired the skill to take pain better then I use too but it still involved the same bad habbits. I recall him saying I love you not too long ago, I heard him well but I didn't respond, I wasn't sure if I really did. As time went by I let my gaurd down, he slowly won my trust and I began to fall. Now whenever I see him I get butterflies effect in my stomach, that's how I know I am in love. Feeling such compassion for one person, it's amazing and to know they feel the same is equally enjoyable. Plans had already been established, we would get an apartment together in Portland and have Adam as a roomate as soon as Adam got out of the group homes. Shawn would stay with his mom until Joe got out of jail, he was more faithful to Joe then any one of us. I looked forward to not living with my grandparents anymore, it was my time to break free from the childlike responsibilities and become an adult. All I needed was the push to get started. When I am given a certain time to come home or I am expected to do something it kills my plan to even do it in the first place. Then I become avoidant and put things off. I've been trying to figure out why I do it but my mind keeps such answers locked away to unobtainable limits. My grandparents think so highly of me and expect so much more from me than what I am really capabale of. I have good intentions and I have the potential to do anything however my mental status is going haywire. When I am sober my moods fluctuate quicker then a six-flags roller coaster. I know I effect other people when I do it and I only realize after that I was acting irrasional and it seems almost unmendable. I would lean up against my bed at night, crying, not knowing how to fix it so I could be normal, the only normality was caused by a short-time intoxication. I had been self medicating everyday with pot for almost eight months, not long too some pot-heads but I wish I didn't have to smoke. Today was the last day I could smoke cigarettes until I was 21, Justin was doing the same thing and I said I would do it with him. It's easier doing things with someone else as opposed to on your own. I could never do anything for myself anyway, no matter how hard I tried, no matter how long I stayed alone, I was nothing. I tried to be something, but each time my self confidence would shatter by one little comment. The truth is, the only people that seem to really care about me is my family, maybe Justin and Adam. Everyone else would drop me the second they got the chance, this has been the story of my life. I had been dropped so many times and picked myself back up I couldn't find the strength to do it anymore. Dissapointment was the most repatative thing in my life, maybe I expected too much from things and people, maybe there really is no one but yourself. I didn't know what to believe. Friendship to me is being able to talk to one another, converse deep feelings and dark secrets. Trust one another and never suspect betrayel in any factor. Everyone I had ever grown fond of and considered a good friend drifed away from me and never looked back. Occasionally sending me a message online saying we should hang out but I was stuck too much in my own world to respond or follow through with the offer. Everything I have lost, everything I now long for has all resulted by my own doing. I tried to be the best person I could but in the end only caring about other people didn't cut it. How do you care about yourself to the point where you want to get up and do it? Motivation, determination, confidence, everything I lacked had depleted. This drought left me confused and broken and in this state of chaos I stood in the middle of the stampede and didn't try to save myself. Letting my bones shatter from the preassure, forget trying to save myself there was no way out. I sat at the bottom of a well; cold, dark, damp. My hands gripped the cross around my neck and the frost covered cement wall. My cries were unheard and I was unseen and unknown to the world. There was no way out. A homeless woman staggered onto the bus and strutted to her seat on the back of the bus with me. I burried my nose into the book Fight Club and pretended to read, my thoughts were so scattered that when I turned the page something completely different was happenening and I realized that I missed the important parts in the book. I did that alot, looking at the words and not retaining anything. My mind could kick the energizer bunny's ass if it called for. The bus began to move through the flowing traffic and we drove through the old port. I looked at all the places I had been to over the summer and memories seem to put a faint smile on my face. Suddenly I looked in the corner of my eye, seeing a girl with a sweater trench-coat on and long blond hair. My thoughts shifted to those of my sister. The last time I had seen her she was on the verge of another mental breakdown, like all the others before this one brought her back to her old ways. I had called her two days in a row to hang out but she ditched me each time, finding something else to be more important. Drugs were deffinetly an issue again, like with my whole family. My mom seemed to be the only sane and knowledgable person in my family, she was smart to stay away from it. Our whole family had drug-abuse problems and as time slowly went by I noticed that they were drifting away, fading out, going to jail, running away to other states, decieving their kids, lieing, stealing, and I was following their footsteps. I could only see with eyes unclouded by hate, I would see it, know that it was wrong but still do it anyway with the true intention of not wanting to do it. I was being raped by my own desire, half of me wanted to be sober and happy the other half couldn't deal with anything for the life of me. We got onto the bridge and everything slowed down, I peered out over the water and saw the boats passing through the fridgid deep blue harbor. You could feel the suspencion of the bus sway from side to side as the cross-winds going over the bridge blew fearcly. I bit my lip and pressed my hand against the glass. Get me out of here... I missed Justin already though I had woken up next to him this morning in an abrupt state knowing I had ten minutes to go to my house, change, go back get Shawn and then go to school. I saw very little of him before leaving. He was beautiful. I had known him for almost six years, and I happily looked at him as my best friend, my boyfriend, my love. He was everything to me, though I did not show it at first. Looks can be deceiving but he was so kind-hearted. His stare always got the best of me, and how affectionate he was seemed to comfort my every worry. I noticed I had feelings for him because when I was drunk I would instantly be drawn to him, feeling the safest, secure and comfortable. With my luck, this would end in a short time and I would be left heart-broken once more. It always happens, and I expect it will when things seem to brighten up. Reaching my stop I pulled the cord hanging along the window and hurried off. I had stopped infront of my old house and looked into the backyard where I had spent most of my days playing by myself and with my cousins. My thoughts were interupted by the people who were pulling in the driveway where I stood, the people that now lived there. A sigh escaped my lips and I carried on through the streets and to my grandparents house. I stopped at the door hesitating as I saw my dad's van but I would tell him the truth anyway. In my mind there was nothing he could do about it, there was no way he could punish me because he wasn't around. I am grateful for the things he did for me to help me get ready for school but as for being a dad? I feel as if I am a burden and I don't exist. I hurried upstairs into my room and put the dressor against the door. Ignoring the knocking I pulled out a small box from under the rug and opened it. They layed at the bottom, the shiney, flat strips of thin metal, untouched by all hands but mine. I picked one up and pulled up my sleeve. I do this for many reasons now. My family is falling apart, I can not acheive anything, I let my mom down, I let my dad down, my own sister that I had grown so close too doesn't give me the time of day, I am ugly, I do not matter, all I do is fuck up, I am the only one who causes all of the dissapointment in my life, I had unprotected sex more than once, I smoked when I told my dad I didn't, No one every really seems to care about anything I say, the stories I tell, I feel empty, I lied about stupid things, and because I am so fucked up in the head I can't get by my own train of thought. This is what is running through my mind, and the pain, the stinging sensation is punishment. But I know I don't have it that bad, I know it could be worse, I know that I am probably only feeling sorry for myself, I know that whatever I do wont make a difference, I know that I am not the only one who feels like this. I think this all as I look up to the lue horizon swarmed with dark gray clouds, tears blurring the sun. I take in a deep breath and whisper into the cross around my neck. Deliver us.

As they said their goodbye's she turned her head in his direction. "I have an answer for you" She said smiling. "An answer for what?" He replied yet something caught his eyes. "Oh you know, something that you asked me while you were drunk right, over there" She pointed beside Shawn's house. "Yess." His repsonce seemed to make her laugh a bit, she wasn't quite sure what she was getting herself into, a relationship was the last thing she really wanted but he seemed to make things easier and besides the fact that she really did like him more then a friend. They parted and she rode her bike quickly down the new paved road singing out loud happily.

Incubus began to play through her earphones as she got on her bike. Unaware of the time she intended to hurry but the high interupted her motivation. She sang outloud as she passed under each street lt on the back road. When she turned the corner something sat right in the middle of the path. "Oh shit!" She shouted swerving around the bike. "Those jerks." There her dad's bike sat, the one that was supposed to be brought back to Shawn's house. With an aggravated sigh she lifted both bikes and walked them down the endless bike path to her house. A wave of releif cast over as she walked into the driveway until she got about half way before coming across the biggest skunk she had ever seen. Delayed reaction, then reaction. She slowly dropped and bikes, grabbed her orange cat and walked quickly inside. Overwhelmed by the amount of events that just happened made her a bit confused. "What are you doing?" Her grandmother asked her opening the door. What the fuck are you guys still doing awake!? She thought as she neglected to respond. "There's a skunk outside." Her grandmother paused and looked as her as she spoke. She noticed her grandmothers observations and turned around sharply to put the bikes out back. With the kick stands set she stepped behind the garage to have a moment. Alright, you're really high right now but they are old and naive. She rolled her eyes and banged her head off the garage then walked inside. Her grandmother started off the conversation by; "Now Brittney, theres something that needs to be established". She took a seat knowing how long these lectures were going to be. She glanced at the clock and noticed it was 12:58, this was the fourth night in a row she'd come home at 1am when the curfew is 11:30. Her grandmother continued to discuss and point out all of the cons to staying out late and how school for her was starting soon but she yawned and only made out the unusual vocabulary. To her, when she's in a high state of mind, everyone else was too. Anything coming from her grandmother amused her to the point if refraining from bursting out laughing. The discussion continued with just the lecture, she said nothing as she poured a bowl of cerial and a glass of chocolate milk, and then shortly after she finished and started walking off. Her grandmothers voice grew louder as she walked off and she turned around. They stared at eachother blankly and she realized that she was being spoken too that whole time. With a faint grin she climbed over the fence and into the computer room. The length of the lecture was longer then she expected, they were getting serious and the limits had been pushed to the max. She was only sorry they gave up this soon, she wasn't use to having a curfew, all summer she lived on her own terms. This was going to take some adjusting, and missing out.

The day was like any other day, the constant search for weed or something to keep them from being sober. She desired it more then she thought, her mind racing through any way to get money, even if it involved stealing it. They obtained a few bowl packs and finished it off in the base of an hour, she felt releived of her hangover and felt calm once more. The awkwardness with Justin seemed more then she could handle, though he was content about it she was speachless. She tried as hard as she could to act normal but inside her mind was racing. The thought of a relationship was the most unpleasent thought, along with loosing Justin as a friend in the end. Relationships never lasted with her, and she had tried over the months to diminish all feelings but even when she didn't she was shot down anyway. This past loss of a friendship had been renewed with the one she'd liked but never again would she think about writing sappy poems or songs, or anything remotely close to it. She felt humiliated by the whole thing, and the words he had spoken. A stolen Thirty-wrack sat beside them as they sat on the beach. Justin, Shawn, Kim, Phil, Chris, Mike, Kris and herself gathered on the rocks to endure the smell of low tide and the oil feilds behind them. Beers were handed out and she decided against the idea remembering the intensity of the previous night. As they pounded their beers she sat alone lost in thought, the only time she had ever chain-smoked the cigarettes she rolled. As soon as their intoxication set in they pulled out the weed once more, she took to that without hesitation. As Justin's intoxication set in he started to hang around her more and sneak the oppertunity to kiss her every so often or put his hands around her waste to hug her. She had known Justin for many years and didn't know what to think of their new setting. She wasn't sure how she really felt for him only knowing and understand how he felt. However she didn't do it out of pity some parts of her were always fond of his originality and how intelligent he was but times at the moment were hard. They retreated from the beach to the garage where the party the night before took place. She laughed in amusement as the smell of herbal weed hovered through the air. They sat around for a while until Kim and Phil left and they moved to Shawn's house. She took advantage of this oppertunity to roll more cigarettes, the thought of the prices going up the next day was agonizing. The papers were filled with tobacco as she carefully rolled each cigarette, Shawn sat beside her making fun of how she did it. They argued for a moment until Carl showed up and put in the movie "Shark Tails". It had been, by far, the dumbest movie they'd ever seen, in her opinion anyway. Midnight, she now had a curfew in which she was to be home by. Walking outside to grab her bike she noticed Justin walking in her direction. She smiled in his greeting as he bent down to kiss her. He pulled away and looked at her. "Will you go out with me?" He asked with an emotionless face. She didn't know what to say and out of habbit she shook her head to get the hair out of her eyes. "No?" He asked with a bit of surprise. "No, no, I didn't say no, aww." She bit her lip in complete lack of words. "Give me some time?" He smiled and stood there shaking his head. "I like that answer better". She pulled him forward to kiss him once more then with the goodbyes she hopped on her bike and rode away. She could see Carl anxiously waiting for Justin and she knew Carl was greatly dissapointed. The night she walked both Justin and Carl home while they were completely and utterly drunk Carl blurted out that he had a crush on her and seeing his best friend make a move before he did, she felt at fault for this. In all honesty she wanted to pack her things, get in a car and drive as far away from this town as possible, run away to another country. She wanted to escape, feeling completely trapped in her own mind. So much confusion and chaos. She knew Justin would expect an answer sooner then she antisipated but she needed a lot more time. She had finally found her place amungst her friends, regardless of their negative influence. Where she could go to Shawn's everyday and hang out with him, being only his friend and not having to worry about sexual tension. On the way home she had her headphones on max and singing the lyrics outloud knowing anyone could be listening didn't really phase her. If she had the oppertunity she would ride her bike until that CD was over and then go home but the curfew was final and she was already pushing her limits. The feeling that created a pit in her stomach had only two cures, intoxication or cutting. She was sober, and was oblivious what to do with herself. She went against her own rules, old habbits die hard. Sleep would be uneasy tonight.