Coolio
I will strive to make you guys proud. I have always been below your expectations, but I am trying. Trying to be your obedient, smart, opinion-less girl. If that's what you want, it is what I will be. I just want you to e proud of me for once.
If I told you my struggles would you understand? If I told you that this pressure of being the best that you put on me is killing me inside, would you care? If I told you about what I did to myself to help me deal with this,would you send me away? If I told you that the person you known for most of her life was a facade, would you believe it? Save your breath, I already know the answers to these questions. You wouldn't care. Not one bit.
"'But Mamma, I don't want my hair in a braid today.' This was usually said when I was a young girl. She'd always reply 'Doesn't matter. Your hair look nice this way.' At that time I didn't understand that braids were easier on my mom. It saved her money by having to buy less hair products and more food. It also let her work less overtime and come home. At that time, I didn't know a braid had such a big impact." I finished telling my short story to my friends. Ren got up, grabbed a newspaper, rolled it up, and smacked me in the head. "Why are you telling us this? " he said . "Because she gave me these fabulous braids today!" I replied with a smile on my face. That earned me another smack in the head.
I have always wanted to be a songwriter. It seemed to be such an interesting choice of work. When I was younger, I believed that the songwriters were magic beings who could spin words into a melody. They are just as great (possibly better) than the singers themselves. A singer that doesn't write their own music has a great voice, but a songwriter has a creative mind that can little the singer's voice be used. This is why I love writing songs and then singing them out loud. I wanted to have the magic of a songwriter, and the great sound of a singer.
The gallery of art stood before me. I had never been to an art museum before so I was interested in what art looked like in real life. It was just as I figured. More amazing than I ever could imagine. I reached up to touch one and the guard grabbed me. "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!!?!" He shouted. I shook and cried, being only seven at the time. The guard picked me up and put me in this room. I remember staying in there for a couple hours. When my parents finally got me, they started yelling too. About a week later they were sorry for yelling. The week after my art gallery visit I got sick. Really sick. But it is all in the past now...
The whole party was wonderful. There were streamers and lights and food everywhere. There was so music and dancing and shouting, I couldn't contain myself from joining the party. I know it was frowned upon since I was supposed to act like a polite little lady, but hey who can resist the festive commotion? I ran up to the the house where the party was at. I recognized a few of those kids. I stayed there a couple hours before my parents came and snatched me right out. They dragged me to the car, but I ran out into the street. The last thing I remember from that event was a bright light...
I noticed the pile of of fish tanks on the floor. There were so many of them but no fish. "Maybe these aren't fish tanks at all" I said. I put one on my head. Suddenly I heard someone yell " What are you doing you dope!" I turned to see my buddy Ren. He looked confused. " I just put on this space helmet! At first I thought it was a fish tank but there were no fish so then I thought it must be a space helmet!" I replied very cheerfully. Ren just shook his head. "They are fish tanks. I found them a couple months ago. They are also very dirty. I don't want you getting sick!" He took the tank off my head and looked away. He was very red. Of course I didn't understand what this meant at the time so I just kept smiling like the little girl I was.