A Girls Story


Because this new story thing is up, I'm gonna put this story in a proper story format. I might even modify... :D I'll delete the personality ones.



Chapter 1


My name is Jenna Mason. Nothing special about me... nope, nothing at all. I'm as boring as a brown paper barf bag.

I have the most boring medium length black hair, tan skin, skinny weight and brown eyes. I live with my mother, who is a drunk. She started drinking around a month ago, cause my father died in some sort of freak accident... a huge plasma T.V fell on him and he died. Talk about a freaky thing, right? So, anyway my mom now abuses me. It's that simple. I have cuts and bruises everywhere. Arms, legs and face, though mostly my arms. I am a very sporty, tomboy and hot-headed. My favorite sport is swimming and my color is purple and animal is a cat.

"JENNA! Come here!" my mom called "NOW!"

What now? She is so demanding! Jenna this, Jenna that! She proberply wants me to give her a foot rub or something. Give me a break! I though as I walked downstairs.

"What?" I demanded.

"YOU!" She shrieked "Stop wasting your time, in your room! Go do the washing!"

And then she shoved me to the ground and I fell and crashed into the coffee table and my hand hit the edge and my hand cut I felt fresh warm blood, pour down my hand.

I sat up whimpering, "Ow, ow!"

"Oh, shut up!' Mom snapped "Now go!"

I went in the laundry room clutching my hand which was still pouring with blood, I looked back and saw she had started drinking. I washed my hand and put a band-aid on. I put the dirty clothing in the washer, put soap in and turned it on. I waited and when it was done, I sat down and started folding it.

When I was done, I carried to the living room and said "I'm done. Where do I put it?"

"You should damn well know where to put it!" Mom shrieked "Remember stupid? In my closet! Folded properly."

"Okay!" I said and walked up the stairs, when I reached her room, I put the basket down and placed everything of hers neatly in her closet. Our apartment is small. There's my room, mom's room, living room, laundry room, the kitchen and a dining room (Which is small).

"Done!" I said as I came downstairs.

"Finally! Now go make dinner!" She snapped

"What? But you said all I had to do was the laundry!" I cried.

"Why, you little brat! I told you to do something and you bloody damn will!" She shrieked.

She grabbed my hair and shook me, then threw me from her with all her strength. I fell and luckily fell on the couch, but my head was still sore and pounding. Once again she walked over to me, grabbed my hair and pulled me towards the kitchen.

"Now, cook me dinner!" She screamed and stormed out the kitchen. I got everything out and started cooking. Will I ever be saved from her?

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