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Briefing

You know those cliché stories where the popular guy gets the nerd. Where they go through all this crazy drama, with orange bleached blondes and face a life and death situation. Where the guy proposes his undying love and then they run off into the distance?

 

Well what happens if I told you that this nerd was my best friend and this popular guy was the bad boy who put his act together. Or that the nerd turned beautiful and turned her back on me. Changing herself to someone who she wasn’t. Changing into the ‘fakes’ who we always made fun off.

 

No one of course noticed these changes till it was too late. Gone was the shy quite and feisty nerd, and in her place was this crazed power hungry girl, with two sides. It wasn’t long before she started sleeping around the football team. Before the bad boy returned and stirred trouble.

 

Thus this cliché story which was the envy of many turned into a disgusting fantasy. And I unfortunately had a front row seat in watching it all play out.

 

Now you’re probably really confused in how I come into this. Well I was a bystander, a friend and companion who went to the nerd’s house to give her a shoulder to cry on when the bad boy ‘supposedly cheated’ on her, you know the usual. However if I had known she would have turned into a backstabbing bitch, I would have slapped her and left her to rot.

 

Don’t get me wrong, I love, no adore my best friend, but all the cruel things she’s done drew the line. Like the time she poured milk down Barry’s back. Poor kid was only a little overweight and had to face her wrath because apparently, ‘he was being to fat’, which was against the popular’s rule book.

 

I don’t even get that. It’s absurd and weird, but that was high school. And this is my story. (Wow talk about clichĂ©)

 

Oh wait did I mention it all started with “I’m pregnant”
.

 

The really long prologue....

The really long prologue
.

 

Ok how do you start a prologue?

 

What’s even the point of them?

 

Frankly I think there a waste of time. Like what do you write, how do you start, where is the starting point
.You know what, how about we get down to business instead? I’m going to have to start from the start; it’ll give you a background.

 

Is that was a prologue is?

 

Anyhow
.

 

 It started as any day had
for me that is. I woke up to birds chirping and the sun streaming through my curtains, the smell of freshly made pancakes drifting to my nose. It was heaven- wait hang on. You seriously didn’t believe that crap did you? Are you high? Who wakes up to that perfection?

 

Ok this is how it really happened.

 

I wake up to underwear on my face. Yes, you heard it (or in this case read it) I woke up to the fresh smell of dirty underwear. Superman underwear to be exact. And it certainly wasn’t mine!

 

So whose may it be, you ask? Well my dear idiot-of-a-loser brother, Jon. It was an ordinary three letter word name, simple so my brother can spell it. He was stupid of course, and had the brain of a pea, and the looks of an ass. So I guess mum must have known when he parachuted out of her, that he would need a simple name.

 

It’s beyond me how girls, and I quote, find him “to die for”, and “sexy as hell”, when he couldn’t even do simple math’s and had to repeat a million times. They must be stupid, and blind, and stupid
oh and did I mention stupid. Because all he knows is how to color coloring sheets, and even then he can’t color in-between the lines! It’s sad, wait no, unbelievingly sad, cause truth be told he doesn’t even have a mental disability!

 

However either than the sad case, our family is pretty average; in my terms that is. Everything you expect a typical family not to be. One my mum is always bent over the computer and typing away on, I have no clue about. And my dad is frying away on the stove top in his frilly pink apron. He says it’s ‘very now a days’, whatever that means. So really the roles are reverse with them.

 

Oh and me, well I’m just your typical nerd. Ok, no I’m not. Yes I’m smart, and yes I wear glasses, but isn’t that normal after you read ‘how to kill a mocking bird’ about a billion times in the dark? Really I only got my glasses three weeks ago, and it’s my entire dad’s fault.

He went into this mode, where he does crazy things. It’s like a mood swing, but can last about a month or something. And when you don’t do what he wants, well let’s just say he goes into a pregnant women slash period era, and hell it gets ugly. So the best thing to do is follow the instructions to avoid bloodshed and world war 3.

 

For example, last time I didn’t he went into a full on hissy fit with his hands flying everywhere. Then he burst into tears and ate, no devoured our chocolate pile! And if we tried to save some, he would bitch slap us to China and back.

 

So like I said, I was wearing glasses because apparently he wanted to ‘save the environment by not consuming any energy’. That meant no electricity after 9pm and no air conditioning in the summer! It was above forty in the damn house, that I could have fried eggs and bacon.

 

Torture, pure torture.

 

It also was because of him I got an ‘B’ instead of an ‘A+’. Stupid man. (Though if he’s reading this, all I have to say is “sorry”)

 

Now where was I in the story; sorry I seem to get carried away sometimes. One of the many downfalls of me.

 

Oh yeah, so like I was saying. I woke up with two thoughts in my head.

 

1)      Why the hell was there underwear on my face

And

2)      What was for breakfast

Ok so the second thought wasn’t important, but living with my family this becomes a daily occurrence. So just brushing of the item of clothing from my face, I got up and stretched.

 

I would like to say I was average in height, but I, being only 5’2 at the age of 17 would make that complete bullishit. And I don’t want to lie to you, because we all know lying in a no-no.

 

So like I was saying, I went through my daily routine of having a 3 minute shower (another thing my dad restricted), brushed my hair and grabbed my water proof, seal tight, black, $39.99 bag. If I’m going to be nerd, might as well act as one, right?

 

If you ever come to my house and happen to walk out of my room first; for some weird reason. Then the first thing you would notice was the state of it. It wasn’t covered in grim and looked like a tornado hit it, then a monkey came with an ape friend and pooped all over it.

 

Truth be told, it was clean as a hospital.

 

White walls, white tiles, white flowers, and even a damn white cat! It was all white. No color. No pictures. And it was a wonder how I haven’t gone crazy yet! You would have thought that, with an artistic dad and all, the walls would be covered in
in
something!

 

But my mum’s the man or she-man of the house and governs everything. This was the only thing she puts her foot down on. Says something about ‘keeping appearance’ and all that shit. Doesn’t make sense to me
 

 

I walk downstairs, combing my hair with my fingers and balancing my bag on my shoulder while holding my shoes, textbooks, laptop and a
sock?

 

You know how I said that the house was freakishly clean, well implied it. Well my room is like a tornado hit it, followed by a nuclear explosion from Hitler and a strip dace from my brother. And this ‘sock’ was one of the many I had lost.

 

See not all nerds are clean, and keep tags on everything with those weird stickers stuck onto diaries!

 

I grab the piece of offending cloth and put it in a hamper which my mum leaves downstairs, ‘cos apparently she predicts that I’ll always come down with a piece of clothing stuck to my ass’. (Mind my French)

 

Maybe she’s right. Ok, she’s always right. She’s one of those people who knows what to say all the time. Gets annoying sometimes because rarely anything leaves her speechless, unless of course it’s the new harry potter book.

 

Leaves her so excited she could pee her pants. She’s a secrete fan.  Has all the movies on blue ray and video, and even has her own costume with the wand and broom stick. She even tried making me a fan! Of course I saw the effects and refused.

 

I’m not saying the books or movies are bad. In fact there good, that sometimes I invite Sarah to come watch them. We have a marathon with chips and the usual junk food. That was before everything spiraled out of control of course. When we were still friends


 

So as I said (or wrote) I put the ‘sock’ in the hamper and walked into the kitchen, where my dad was preparing his special. Wait for it
 ‘Eggs with soya sauce, grated cheese and olives. Burnt bread (says it gives a sweet bitter taste) with jam and sugar, and a glass of milk.

 

Thinks he could win a cooking title with that
a
 ‘Thing’ of a creation. He probably could, but a title of the worst cook. He doesn’t get that he can’t cook to save his life, or that he would get us all sick if we ate that.

 

And truth be told it happened to Jon once. Stupid boy ate dad’s creation, and was rushed to hospital and put in intensive care. Was knocked out for three days from food poisoning. So mum sneaks us some money to go to the coffee shop down the street and buy some edible things. Though Jon just goes to the shops and buys some cigars. Makes him look ‘cool’. Bullshit.

 

For one, he doesn’t even use them and just gives them to his mates, who give them to their mates. It probably gets passed on, like pass the parcel. Till of course it reaches the schools bad boy. The ultimate dark horse or black stallion of our school. The hottest of the hot, the devil in all his glory, the dark angel from hell, the
you get the point.

 

The point is he’s feared, envied and lusted over. Ok, I admit it, for one time in my short life, I liked him. But gosh if you were to ever see him; either on the street or something, you would too! It’s a normal female reaction, and luckily I got over him a day or so later. After of course he destroyed the school science lab, stopping me from finishing my project which was

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