A/N: So anyway...I wrote this um six years ago...It started as a rant...yeah...I love the first paragraph...It will turn into a romance thing...once I get to the dream part which is chapter 2...I'll post that now too...Alright...so I have issues updating things...I know this...K but I have wanted to start writing again and when I do I work on like five stories at once...so I am curious which one you all like best and I will try and focus on that...Let me know what you think and before you dismiss this story please read chapter two...

All names have been changed for the protection of myself and those I speak of...

Life. What is Life? It is a four letter word that is the most annoying word in the English language after if. Life is something that everyone has. There are a few people, mostly parents and unelected dictators like Kathryn Eichenlaub, which try to control it. Teenagers hate it, but desperately seek to have one. Life is this idea that overpowers everything and everyone. It controls us, our choices, our desires, our reflexes. Everyone needs to get one, or at least stay out of mine. My name is Natalie Percetti.

I am a sixteen-year-old junior in Cafferty High School. I am an average girl, barely five-four with a little pudge on my stomach. I have brown hair, almost dark enough to be called black, and blue eyes. I am not ugly, but am not incredibly beautiful either.

My attitude is that of a typical teenager. I can be flip sometimes, but not all the time. I really don't like to work, but I do when I have to. Most of what I say is a reflex; to protect myself. It makes me come off as a bitch sometimes or a brat, but I don't have to be. When I am out with my friends, I am not like that. I feel more open around them- like I don't have to hide who I am. I still don't tell them everything though. That is what this story is for.

My family has four other members; my mother, my father, my brother, and my dog. Yes, I do consider my dog part of my family. Actually, she is my favorite part because she doesn't argue and usually loves you no matter what.

I'll start with my mother. She is a wonderful woman of fifty-two years. I love her dearly, but she can sometimes, like all mothers, be a pain in the ass. A couple years ago she was working as a nursing home administrator, but then she was diagnosed with Hepatitis C. She keeps her license current though. Before I was born she was married to two other men. Her current husband is my stepfather; none of her spouses are my birth father.

Her first marriage was when she was twenty, it didn't even last a year. I am not exactly sure when she got married the second time, but I do know that she really never wanted to go through with it. My father lives in Ohio. My mother told me that he was older than she was and that he refuses to acknowledge my existence.

My stepfather is my dad, the only one I know. He had been in my life since I was seven, I think, maybe eight. He is twenty years younger than my mother and tells everyone that he is twenty-nine. He runs his own business from home. It is a company that supplies psychiatrists and psychologists to nursing homes to help the elderly adjust to their new surroundings.

He really needs to supply one to my brother; who is not really my brother, but my cousin. My mother adopted him because her sister was unable to care for him. When I was five he joined our little family. It was hard for me to get used to having another child in the house, I mean I was an only child after all. My brother has ADHD, attention deficit hyperactive disorder. He also has a bone growth deficiency so he is on growth hormones, and he will supposedly never get grays or wrinkles. He has to actually remember to take the shots though.

My dog on the other hand is perfect. The only thing that she does wrong is pees and poops in the house. Smart dog isn't she. She is still sweet and kind and loves a person no matter what, except my friend Brandon, when she met him, she tried to bite his nose off. My dog - a small little thing, a mini black and brown wirehair dachshund with a hint of silver - has the longest tongue in the world, but only gives kisses if you are really nice to her.

Anyway, back to my story, well it really isn't a story; it is the truth, along with a dream. Things that I wish existed along with my real life, could it work? I don't know, that is why I am writing it. This is what I wish would happen this weekend, but won't, because it is impossible. These characters don't exist and this story is complete fiction. It is my dream and nothing more.

One weekend my family and I went to the beach. It was actually the first day of the New Year. The night before we left, I loaded up the car. We were supposed to leave that night, or the next morning at two, but a drunk driver almost hit my parents, so they were freaked out. So instead we left at eleven thirty later that day. My grandparents took my brother with them, so I had the ride down to myself.

My mother woke me up around ten that morning and I finished packing my crap and loading the car. We left and drove down, we made record time.

None of us had eaten anything that day, so after we unloaded the car and my mother and I argued, one of those things that has to happen when we go down to the beach, we drove down Coastal Highway until we saw a Dough Roller on Fortieth Street. Now you must realize that there are three other Dough Rollers that we passed on the way down, but my parents had to see if there were any other restaurants that they hadn't eaten at before.

During lunch we fought a bit more and I got in trouble again. Big surprise there. Anyway, she took all my books away so that I would be forced to do some schoolwork. As if that would really work. It would so give me enough time to do the nonexistent schoolwork that I have. I may get a C in English because of some stupid test and class work that I didn't do well on. But who cares, it is average enough for such a stupid class.

What my mother doesn't realize is that I don't spend all my time reading. I write constantly, I am in the middle of seven stories at the moment, only four can be published without breaking copy write laws. I really would like to get one published; it's sort of a goal of mine.

I also want to become an attorney. I want to go to Loyola Law in New Orleans. I am actually supposed to start college at the community college this summer. My bitchy mother doesn't think I am mature enough to start this year. They said that they wouldn't pay for it if I don't shape up. Oh well, I guess I'll be stuck at the beach with them all summer again.

Oh, wait, did I say stuck? You know I am probably one of the only people in this world who hates the beach. I like to be around my friends, but they are all in Baltimore, not in Bethany.

At any rate, back to lunch. While my parents were degrading me I realized something. They are right about one thing a lot of people don't like me. I realized that at my old school, Pleasant Lutheran, the school I went to for ninth and tenth grade, I didn't have many friends. All the girls that I thought were my friends really weren't, I never really got along with them, never did anything outside of school with them, they even bad mouthed me behind my back. It hurt me to realize this.

Okay. I still haven't figured why I push people away, they never really opened up to me when I started there anyway. I don't even know why I bother with trying to figure it out. I don't go there anymore, so why does it matter. At my new school I have some good friends, I think. They haven't turned on me yet. This one girl, Melissa, thought that I was trying to take over her life, so she hates me now, and a few of the people that I went to middle school with are still ass holes, but I can't do anything about that.

Anyway, I am supposed to be telling a story right. Okay, after we went to lunch, my parents went grocery shopping. I sat in the car, and yes, I did the normal little girl thing, I cried. My little realizations were painful.

All right, after my little crying session, we went home and I secluded myself on the second floor with my dad's laptop. I wrote my stories and played computer games. I watched the "Monk" marathon and the movie Dave, you know, where the "average joe" becomes president. Really a good movie. I decided to go to bed at one which is not bad for me when I am at the beach.

So yeah this part is actually true...that day I had the best most juciest burger from dough roller and I really did go cry in the car and watch a Monk marathon and Dave...I actually wrote this that day...lol...kinda sad to read over this now...