1-The Sister

"What!?" I screamed in rage, lifting my body out of my chair.

"You heard me young lady, you are going to your sister's Upper-classmen Honors Congregation, and that's that. Now for heavens sake sit down," my dad argued across the table. He lowered his head and began tucking back into his mashed potatoes. 'Like hell I'm sit down and give up.'

"Why do I have to go to this 'congregation' thing anyways? I mean Laura didn't have to come to my under-classmen thing last week, so why do I have to go to hers?" I continued despite the glaring look my dad was giving me. Suddenly he slammed his fork on the table, uh-oh.

"One Laura had cheerleading practice last week, and two you going to support your sister," he answered, anger rising within him. "Now again sit down!"

CHEERLEADING?! Oh my blood was boiling, and then it hit me. How could dad possibly work his way out of that, I saw no way he could make some excuse so I tried it.

"Well, I have swim practice the night of her assembly thingy, so I cannot attend just as she did not attend mine," I said in triumph, smiling slightly to myself. How could he argue with that? Obviously, he could.

"You'll just have to skip it," he simply stated not even raising his gaze from his mountain of potatoes. And that my friends, sent me over the top.

"WHAT!? LAURA GOT OUT OF GOING TO MY ASSEMBLY FOR CHEERLEADING AND YET I HAVE TO SKIP SWIM PRACTICE THE WEEK OF STATE FINALS!? HOW IN THE HELL IS THAT FAIR?!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, infiltrating all my anger at Dad. There was a slam of my dad hitting his fork against the table. He was breathing heavily as he took his turn to stand.

"YOU KNOW WHAT LIFE ISN'T FAIR SO SHUT UP, SIT DOWN, AND FOR THE LAST TIME, YOUR GOING!!" he screeched across the table in full rage. I couldn't win or continue, so I ran to my room and slammed the door shut and locked it.

"What's her problem?" I heard Laura asked stupidly.

I grabbed my archery bow, and an arrow, and some how a hole just happened to appear in the wall. I threw the bow aside and flopped down on my bed, and gazed at the ceiling. It was quite pathetic at how many times I found myself in this position. Almost every night Dad and I fought; it was ten times worse when Sheryl, Dad's girlfriend, came over. At first dinner would be great, then somehow Dad or Sheryl would make a viscous attack on my attitude, or my friends, or my cloths, or anything in general that they knew would annoy me. We would get into a fight where myself and Dad would have and yelling fight and I would end up here, on my back staring at the ceiling.

I sighed as I heard Laura and Dad continue to talk as if nothing had happened, that part just disgusted me. It was as if I was just a pain in the ass that lived here. But of course that is what everyone thought.

Laura was the favorite of the family, like that isn't obvious. Laura was the "exact copy" of my deceased mother. She was average height and weight and was skinny as a twig. She had long flowing blonde hair and dark brown eyes. Her complexion was perfect and her teeth were pearly white and straight. Laura was also the captain of the cheerleading squad, prom and homecoming queen, was voted most popular three frickin years in a row, and her boyfriend was the "hottest" guy in school and he was captain of the football team, but she was as dumb as a door nail: did that matter, no. All my relatives thought Laura was perfect. They were always spoiling her to bits, and Dad was always,"oh so proud of her." Uhg, gage me with a spoon. Laura was far from perfect, if you ask me, but my opinion doesn't count.

Then of course there's me, the "disappointment" of the family. I was fairly tall, skinny but extremely muscular. I had naturally jet black hair and bright green eyes. My skin was cursed with only a few pimples, and they were easily hidden with makeup and my teeth were just as my sister's. I wasn't a cheerleading zombie, I am an excellent swimmer. I held most of the school records, but did Dad care, nope. I also am very interested in the arts. Acting, drawing, writing, you name it, I do it. I am also a complete book worm, with a spectacular vocabulary, with a 4.0 grade point average and was in line for valedictorian in my class, but I am an 'outsider'. My friends are few and just like me are a little mentally ill. We don't care what people think about us and for some reason that's wrong. But we get we get over it.

I sighed again and rolled over onto my side. What was so wrong with me? Why did Dad hate me so much? These and many other questions ran through my head constantly, and I never have been able to figure out any of them.