Categories > Original > Drama > Opposites
Marice's P.O.V.
As the little pov thing stated, I am Marcie. Can I tell you what I hate most? People. All trying to chage me because they hate the way I look, act, dress. I'm the "evil" twin If you must. My sisters the angel. She's the one with perfect grades and life. She just started dating the quarterback (Like I know what that is) and she's head cheerleader. I don't trut him, he's a player, but to here it's love. I'll look out for her, but I still hate her.
Now alittle more on myself. I am the chick who might shoot up the school. Key word, might. I've gotten 10 detentions in the past week or so. I have a hot boyfriend, skinny jeans, black long hair, and did I mention tight hot skinny jeans? My grades, eh, C's all through.
My mother hates me since I'm not the perfect one, but it's okay, I hate her too. Imma daddys girl. He's the one that lets me get away with so much. He was in my shoes when he was my age. So he's my go to parent. Unlike Michelle who always goes to mom. Ugh, that women. Just a barbie hanging on a rich guys arm. She didn't want us, mostly me, if she could she'd stop the pregnancy.
My room is a tomb. Red lines the walls. I have a cofin like be spread on my king sized bed. I have two walls devoted to books, the rest has my art work spread all around. Theres and old bar that I sit on top of to do my art. Speakers right next to me in the cubby where scotch would be. Did I mention I live in the basement? Yes, my mother is that ashamed of me, like I care.
And lastly, I walk like a prisoner in my own home. If anyone knew how I really felt, I wouldn't be the same.
I'm not mean, to people who don't cross me
As the little pov thing stated, I am Marcie. Can I tell you what I hate most? People. All trying to chage me because they hate the way I look, act, dress. I'm the "evil" twin If you must. My sisters the angel. She's the one with perfect grades and life. She just started dating the quarterback (Like I know what that is) and she's head cheerleader. I don't trut him, he's a player, but to here it's love. I'll look out for her, but I still hate her.
Now alittle more on myself. I am the chick who might shoot up the school. Key word, might. I've gotten 10 detentions in the past week or so. I have a hot boyfriend, skinny jeans, black long hair, and did I mention tight hot skinny jeans? My grades, eh, C's all through.
My mother hates me since I'm not the perfect one, but it's okay, I hate her too. Imma daddys girl. He's the one that lets me get away with so much. He was in my shoes when he was my age. So he's my go to parent. Unlike Michelle who always goes to mom. Ugh, that women. Just a barbie hanging on a rich guys arm. She didn't want us, mostly me, if she could she'd stop the pregnancy.
My room is a tomb. Red lines the walls. I have a cofin like be spread on my king sized bed. I have two walls devoted to books, the rest has my art work spread all around. Theres and old bar that I sit on top of to do my art. Speakers right next to me in the cubby where scotch would be. Did I mention I live in the basement? Yes, my mother is that ashamed of me, like I care.
And lastly, I walk like a prisoner in my own home. If anyone knew how I really felt, I wouldn't be the same.
I'm not mean, to people who don't cross me
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