I was expecting to feel pain. Expecting to hurt myself like I deserved. Instead, I felt this amazing rush. Like nothing Ive ever felt before. I stared at the immaculate line of blood coming out of my wrist. Not what I expected; not at all like what I thought was coming. I looked into the mirror. I saw a face Ive never seen before; pure excitement, pure bewilderment. I was truly amazed. My mind didnt wonder. I was totally focused on the rush. It was a new obsession. I discreetly set the now blood covered knife on the counter. I didnt plan on it bleeding this much. Then again, I had absolutely no uncertainty. I was very pleased with myself. Very proud for finding this great pleasure.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Lisa, get your butt down here right this minute!" I heard mother yell. "Yes mother dearest. Im coming, Im coming." I replied. Ive been getting so tired of taking her immature crap. Most of the time she makes me feel like Im the mother, not the child. Cleaning up after her drunken rages. Running to her boyfriend Cole's house to get her another pack of cigarettes. Currently, shes refusing to leave the house. Shes positively convinced that theres someone after her. I guess if I started taking all the drugs shes on then Id understand. One thing is for sure; I have no desire to turn out anything like her.
I guess I ought to start at the beginning. I live with my mother, two little sisters that are twins, older brother, and cousin. Naturally no one will tell me why in the world my cousin is living with us. No one bothers to tell me anything. Im just the inconsiderate teenage pain in the butt. Although, my mothers never been quite the type to say butt. Being the intelligent lady she is she insists on cursing. Hahaha. Intelligent? I think not. Yes, she used to be. Until she started doing pot, ended up moving on to heroin, and now she’s doing God knows what.
All my friends think im crazy. They think Im so different... I am. Thank God. I have no want to be like them at all. The thought makes me sick. Im alone. Actually its rather funny that I said all my friends. Kind of makes it sounds like I have a lot. What a total lie. I have two friends. Ashley and Callie. Theyre both so sweet and defiantly perfect friends. Excuse me while I gag. Ashley and I used to be pretty close. Until two years ago when she met Jason. Now Im just the girl she calls every night to tell about the great time she just had with Jase. In the beginning, I cared. I swear I did. It got radically old though quick. Callie, shes not like anyone I know. Shes considered a prep and at school she totally ignores me. I don't blame her though. She knows I like being left alone. She knows I deserve to be left alone. She knows things no one else does... thats the way I planned to keep it. Im sure youre wondering, if she really isnt sweet, then why do you tell her these things? Why do you pour your heart out to someone so preppy? Why? Shes all I have. She listens, she cares, I listen to her, and I care about her. We understand each other. Big surprise. I worry about her a lot and I know she worries about me. She has so much pressure from her mother also. Were there for each other. Yes, Lisa, the inconsiderate freak actually gives a crap about people other then herself.
People dont talk to me. I dont talk to them. Its pretty simple really. "Look at that Lisa girl, shes such a freak. How come she never talks?" "I dont know, maybe it shed change her wardrobe around a bit, you know, forget her whole craze over wearing all black, and decide on make-up that doesnt make her look like a ghost, people just might talk to her. They never stop to think its because I dont want to end up like them. I dont want to look like them. I dont want to talk like them. I dont even want to think like them. Oh my God, my life is over, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! Can you believe this? I broke a nail" and they think IM the weird one? Yeah right.
Sometimes, I get tired of being alone, although I know its my fault. I get tired of mother constantly yelling at me, at my little sisters' nagging, and at my older brother being so immaculate. I get tired of thinking about my dad. Crap. I never told you about my dad, did I? Stupid me. To tell you the truth, I was hoping to avoid the topic, but I guess Ill have to tell you anyway. Hes why Im so upset all the time. Hes why I where all black. Hes why I dont care what others think about me. Hes why mothers on drugs. Hes why my sisters cry so often. Hes why my older brother quit school. Why did he do this? Because of me. I led him to it. I would yell and get mad when I wasnt allowed to do things,like any other teenager I guess. I had to be the best at everything when it came to my brother and sisters. I thought I was perfect and so did he. Then, I started not caring. I was like screw it, making my dad happy is defiantly not worth cleaning my room. Maybe if I would have done it, maybe if I kept my room a little neater. Maybe if I did the dishes more often, maybe, just maybe he would still be here. He couldnt take it though. Couldnt take life. Id be mad at him for it, but heck, I cant blame im. I just wish I had the nerve to go through with it.
Thanks for reading! Love, Twisted Sister
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