Everyone in my family sings.Is there something wrong with me,seeing as though I'm the only on in my entire family that doesn't sing? Or at least sings good?Even the music I like is different. My mom likes classical, my sister likes soft pop, my dad likes country, and I like rock and screamo. Everything I do is different than what my parents wanted me to do. Everything I am is different than what my parents planned me to be.We are so-called religious. No cursing and no sins allowed in my household. In school, same rules apply.I don't curse. I don't like to. It doesn't make me feel like I accomplished anything.My mom believes that wearing black everyday and all the time is a sin and a sign that your a devil child. I try to explain that just because I do wear black doesn't mean that I am what she says. And my hair is black. But that's not my fault. My mom has bright blonde,long silky hair and icy blue eyes. Her skin is the color of honey and milk and she's half as tall as my father, who is 6'7. My father has dark ashy brown hair and almost scary amber brown eyes, although he is strictly non-violent. He's taller than my mother, who is 5'5.My sister is the prettiest girl in school, or so everyone tells me."Her wavy hair is so perfect!""Her eyes are like the most clearest ponds in which the fish of beauty swim!""Her skin has the most healthiest glow I've ever seen!And its so perfectly tan!""She's so thin and tall!The perfect girl!"All of what people say about her is true. When they talk about me, everything might as well be. If they ever said anything about me.My hair, as mentioned before is black. It's not as straight as a board but it's close. When i was 10, I cut bangs but they turned out too short. In the past 3 years, they've seemed to grow out so they're only half an inch away from covering my eyes, which are as brown and scary as my dads. My skin isn't really light, or has a healthy glow. It's more of an olive Italian tone, which I probably got from my dad's side. I'm 5'6, weigh 119 pounds. From my opinion, I don't like my face, I don't like my body, and I don't like how I'm always compared with my sister."She's so nice! You should be more like her.""She's so obedient! You should be more like her.""She's so honest! You should be more like her.""She's so perfect! You should be more like her."Honestly, I try to be perfect and I don't try to be rebellious. Sometimes rude coments just seem to slip right past my lips, but the next word is sorry. "She has so many friends! You should try to be more friendly. Just like her""She has all of the boys always at her will! You should try to make yourself more prettier.More like her.""She is so wonderful! You should try to make yourself more presentable. More like her."Truthfully, I don't want so many friends. I only rely on one, Bethany. Maybe even Mildred if she goes to school. But Bethany is the really only friend I need to feel wanted. I don't really like any boys and they don't seem to like me either. So I don't see a problem there. I try to be more presentable, more wonderful, but every time I try, something goes horribly wrong.Bethany seems to be the only one who is really, genually honest and nice to me. She has shorter hair than me, about up to her shoulders but a bit past. Her hair is the color of milk chocolate but with carmel tips on her fringe. Her eyes, the eyes that I wish I had, change color like a kelidoscope. From brown, to green, to a lighter brown. She's rather short for 13 and has the same skin color as me. We both share the same interests when it comes to music and clothing. Maybe thats why I like her. Because shes the only person who understands me.(c)GracieTheGreat(c)
GracieTheGreat