Madz: nothin' really
Madz: trying to find something to blog about
?: how about... aliens... and ghosts... alien ghosts.... yeah
Sorry...Don't think that'll cut it. I don't know much about either anywho! Hehehe.
Anyway, post of the night...Or day.
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She didn't understand it. Her...her mother...They always got along fine. But lately, something had gone completely wrong. Every week it was something new with the same fate. "I want you out of my f***in' house!"
The problem was, when she tried to leave, she couldn't. Last week she was already all packed. Just no where to go. Then when she went to leave, her mother took her out. No where special. Just a run to Wally World of course. Anything her mother said she ignored. She didn't want it to go away. She wanted to leave. She wanted a fight.
Why you ask?
Because her mother had always tried to cover it up. Like foundation over a small bump on your face. The problem is. That doesn't make the bump go away right? Then another just "pops" up and you smooth foundation over that one as well.
Look!
No blemish.
Wrong!
It's under that sheet of fakeness and it won't go away until you do something about it.
Her mother would cover up the problem. "It's over." "Let's not talk about it."
Today was the day she would sit her mother down and talk about it.
She walked up to her mother. "Can I go to a friend's?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because it's a school night."
Watching the siloutte of her body and the end of her cigarrette sizzle in the night air, she couldn't figure it out. She thought to herself as she asked the question again. *Nothing's wrong anymore? You're not pissed?*
"It's a school night."
*I don't care. I'm not welcome.* She walks to the kitchen without a response. Her mother comes and sits down in the usual chair...Knitting.
"Please. You told me to leave."
"No, let's not talk about it."
"Fine! If we don't talk about it and it doesn't get fixed. I'll blame you." She bolted upstairs to call two of her best friends.
One who welcomed the girl into her home...
and the other who welcomed her into his heart...
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Eh.
Not what I expected.
Not what I wanted.
But being picky gets us in trouble.
Sorry if it's awful.
f.A.r.I.s
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