Blythe Conway of District 10 {FIN}

I lay my head down on the blue, fluffy bed. Ignoring the cat calls and taunts from my drunken mom, and pothead dad. The perfect couple My curly brown mop of hair bounces up and down around me. My fingers trace the lace patters engraved onto the sheets as I wonder just how far away 18 is. I've lived with this crappy family for too long. I've done my dues. I pull up from the bed and walk over to the bathroom. Ignoring the "Get down here you ugly b----" and "I- I think I'm drunk."

I look at my reflection in the cracked mirror. Money wasted on beer. My hair is a crisp brown. I stand at 5' 7", and average height for some one of 16. My slight frame from lack of nutrients is an important factor of my looks. It gives the appearance of a bird about to take flight, to never return, to escape. My eyes are by far my favorite, a light brown that matches almost perfectly with my olive skin. And then my nose, slightly off to the left. Caused by a drunken mother who thought it would be funny to see her daughter fall down the stairs. I heard the crack as my nose his the landing, and felt the blistering pain a split second after.

My hand reaches up and tentatively touch the bridge, as if it was still broken. I stare harder at my reflection, my mouth pressed up in a smile that holds depth and pain. My little siblings have yet to notice, they are so young at 10 and 9. I force them to go to friends houses, or play outside, so they do not see the horrors. They are cute, with the same curly hair and brown eyes that I have. I just wish that I could be them. The cute little children who run around laughing. But I'm not. I'm me.

I know I am not a beautiful girl, I am not a girl who will turn head, but I am not ugly. I am striking, and that is what is important. Being striking can bring attention. I will not become the drunken, high people my parents are. I will mature into a beautiful woman. Never let them bring you down

|P e r s o n a l i t y|

I just want to be noticed. I just want to be seen. My mother things that I'm an ugly hag, and my father... well I don't want him to notice me. I want some one to care about me, to love me. I need attention, guidance, care, because I'm not a woman, not yet. I'm still 16, and I still need parents. I try for this attention by being the best possible. I study, I do extra credit, I'm witty, I joke, I laugh, I smile, and I am the best person possible. I work hard, I pay attention and I try. But it doesn't work It doesn't. I'm still the abused daughter, the stupid, ugly, obsessive daughter. But that's not me I'm not stupid or ugly. I'm smart and plain. I just want some one to notice that.

Another big part of my life is jealousy. I want a family and when I see a kid with their parents, I want to walk over there and be part of their family. I want to have luxury items and money, I don't want to worry if my mother will die from alcohol poisoning, or avoid my father at all costs. I just want to be a 16 year old girl. I want to be normal.

I think that all the abuse I receive causes me to want to protect the others around me. My younger siblings, Marsh and Gwen, are oblivious to the fact of their mother's substance abuse, and their father's hatred of them. They do not understand that they are mistakes, the product of a drunken night. And I will keep it that way, because no other human being should feel the way I feel. I won't let that happen.

It's the same thing for animals. They're so innocent and cute. My dogs were found on the street, both lying next to each other, bellies the size of straws, ribs protruding violently, making them waking skeletons. They lied their not moving, the fear that seeped into me caused me to momentary panic and fear that they were dead. But they weren't I took them home and nursed them back to health. Just like I want to be.

|H i s t or y|

My footsteps are soft, quiet, yet the termite infected stairs insist on creaking. It's obvious my family isn't the richest, all our money wasted on booze. It is also obvious my parents are never going to win best parent award. They waste all their money so my mother could get drunk, and my father insists that I shouldn't be alive. "Stupid b----." "You're a stupid w---e." He hates me, like everything wrong is my fault. Like it's my fault they got drunk and had me, and my siblings.

I know that I shouldn't be sneaking out, but I need to see my friends. This party is suppose to be crazy. Christie would kill me if I didn't show up. I meet Christie when I was 7. I was sitting in the back of the class when she sat down next to me. Her curly blond hair was bouncing up and down, and her blue eyes sparkled as she smiled at me. We became best friends after I helped her ace a project. I've always been the smart one and she's the pretty one. I know she isn't a good influence, but she has attention, and I feed off attention. I'm like her ignored side kick.

I don't mind. The door creaks and then the icy air of the January air stings my face. I have a woolen jacket, it barely protects me though. And in just a few seconds I'm chilled to the bone. My feet slosh in the slushie snow, quickly numbing my toes. I make it to the street, I see the barn in the distance. It's more like a shack, barely the size of a room. My pride and joy are my three goats and two dogs. The goats weren't suppose to build, I brought two them with three years worth of the spare money from my parents drinking. The doe and billy quickly created another, a baby boy. I've been selling there milk for a while, preparing for my escape from my parents. I have enough to buy a small house for Marsh, Gwen, and I, but not enough for life. My parents would kill me if they knew I was planning to leave, because then who would they hate?

I arrive at the house, and hear the chatter of the people inside. I take a deep breath and think back to the day I lost it. Only 6, I sat there tracing the lace of the moth bitten couch. My parents stumble in, drunk, of course I didn't know what had happened. I stared at them. My mother's eyes were half open, my father wore a wife-beater shirt. He turned at me and sneered "What are you looking at?"
"Nothing, Daddy"
"You better not, ugly b----" I sat there for a second, trying to understand what he had said. I knew it was bad, so I left the room and cried.

I sigh, and head in preparing for what ever is to come.