My Life - Prologue

(This was a short story I wrote for an English class, I'll do my best to split it up into little bits :-) )
My name is Robyn, Robyn Clarke. I am 16 years, 7 months and 3 days old. I have a big brother, Simon, and a little sister, Shaylie. My parents are still together, well, for now at least. They’re always at each other’s throats. I wouldn’t be surprised if one killed the other. My dad, George, works 24/7. He wants the best for us. Simon has a part-time job at his friend’s dad’s garage. He’s training to be a mechanic. My mum, Joanne, is an unemployed, stay-at-home mum. She just cooks and cleans. No biggy. She makes it out to be like hell, when she’s not the one who works 24/7, or is in hell 24/7. In a way I envy her, or Shaylie and Simon.

Shaylie’s too innocent to have a real perspective on life. The worst thing in her opinion is someone taking her Barbies. FYI Shay, they can take a LOT worse… I hate her dolls; they remind me of every girl in my school, well nearly. There are a few ‘normal’ girls.
Sometimes I take Shay’s dolls, the ones she doesn’t like or her old ones, and pretend they are the real girls who hate my guts. I imagine what I would do to them if were left alone in a room with them, weapons at my disposal. I’m not normally a violent person, it’s just they really make my blood boil.

Simon only lives with us at the weekends; he stays on campus the rest of the week, away from the hell hole. I often wonder how he managed it. Simon was never popular. He preferred independence. He was never bothered by people calling him names, ignoring him or anything. He just kept going.
“Don’t let them win,” He once told me.
I admire my big brother, in many ways more than one. He’s a talented musician, he can play guitar, drums, and sing.
I only hope that one day I can compare to him, but I know I never will. Simon will always be the ‘Golden Child’ of the family. I will never compare to him, neither will Shaylie, but everyone loves her because she’s young and cute.

I know where my mother’s priorities lie; Shaylie, Simon, Me.
Simon goes to college outside of town. Foxford is a town the size of a peanut. No seriously, it’s got to be the smallest town in existence. I came from the city, where people hustle and bustle around the streets, in huge crowds. Shopping centers the size of Foxford itself! And the houses, oh my, they were massive, and beautiful! Everybody either had an apartment in the central town square, or a mansion on the outskirts. We we’re just in the middle, not rich but not poor. We had a good life, until Dad’s firm told him they needed him to move somewhere new, to expand the company. So here I am, in the sleepy, boring, idle town of Foxford.
I would say I hate it here, but that would be an understatement.
I had it all, now I have nothing.

I live for the weekends, school is like a prison. If it wasn’t for my cute drama teacher, I don’t think I would bother. Okay maybe I would go just to oogle at some guys who are way out of my league, and I’m invisible to. Then again, Megan and Harlow are in every single one of my classes.
I was one of the ‘popular girls’ in my school. I was beautiful, smart and sexy. Here I stick out like a sore thumb. Everyone is either a total idiot, or insanely smart. I mean, I wouldn’t say I was nerdy back home, but it certainly looks like it now. All of ‘my crowd’ i.e. ‘beautiful people’, are complete morons, or total b*tches.

Take Jenni for example, tall and thin, long bleach blonde hair, and an orange face. She must wear about an inch of foundation, a whole tube of mascara, and don’t even get me started on the eyeliner. She looks like Shaylie had just done her makeup for her, or at least in the dark. But what I don’t understand is that everyone wants to look just like her. Why do people want to look exactly the same, and hideous? Whereas someone like me, short, skinny, brunette, pale complexion and a hint of makeup is considered ‘ugly’? Yeah, by who’s standards?

I guess everyone thought I’d join the ‘skank tank’. Yeah I came up with a name for ‘my own kind’. Just because I was popular back home, doesn’t mean I want to be again. Looking back though, it makes me wish I hadn’t let my so-called ‘friends’ be as awful as they were to the ‘nerd herd’. I’m sure they wish I had too.

I hate Foxford, I hate the people, and I hate my life. And guess what day it is tomorrow?
Monday.
Ugh.