raynecloud725
Flowers and chocolate. Sappy, sappy, sappy, sappy. Don't you dare say I'm bitter. I'm not. The worst things in my life have happened because of flowers and chocolate. Valentines day, last year, my older sister, Mariana was engaged to a monster. Clark proposed to her with her engagement ring hidden in a box of chocolates and bouquet of flowers. The card on the flowers read "Marry me hot stuff?" Ew. I hate him. Mariana now has 2 kids. Devil kids. And Clark has long left her and her dreams to care for her kids in an old appartment in the Bronx. I hate flowers and chocolate.
There were three things that Anastasia Bennett wasn't the best at. The first was trend forecasting, the second was making shark tooth friendship jewelry, and the third was singing. It would be wrong to say that she was bad at any of these things because she was actually really great at them, but her younger sister, partially messed up, hardcore Livs was better at all three. Especially singing. Livs was the lead singer in three bands and soaked up her time on stage. Give Livs a microphone and she will be entertained for hours. She had always been like that. Livs had a rock voice that she could sing anything with. Anastasia was left with a choral voice that would make anyone in the room stare, but a choral voice all the same. Her voice cracked if she tried to sing anything else rendering her useless for anything other than the choir. It was rare for proud, perfect Anastasia to be jealous of anyone, but here she was wishing she had the microphone voice of Oliva Bennett.
My older sister, Katherine, has a very limited way of looking at the world. She sees things through the eye of a needle. She says she wants to grow up to be a good, happy housewife and be able to sew and make clothes for her family, and help in the war effort. She is is 22 now, and about to mary her long time boyfriend and soldier, Mark Adamson. My mother fully supports her, of course, but I could never. My name is Magdelena and I'm a rebel. My sister says I am the most unladylike person she has ever met in her entire life, but I think I am perfect. So does my boyfriend, Jake. Jake and I prefer to be non-conformists. We listen to rock music, we go to wild parties, and we hate the uniforms at our school. My mother always tells us to be careful not to offend anyone with our radical ideas. We say we hope we do. We know better than to see through the eye of a needle.
Out of all the Beates albums I own, and trust me there are quite a few, Revolver is my favorite. I don't know why the word revolt makes me think of this outstanding work, probably because the begins are the same (REVOLt and REVOLution), but I do know that it is a perfect album to listen to today of all days. And this is perfect word. We all know what is happening over in Egypt. They are having a revolution and I wish I was there to support them. Today was supposed to be their day. The day when their president steps down and passes his power to a new leader, but that didn't happen. And a girl, somewhere in the middle of New York, didn't listen to revolver.
"You coward!" I yelled jokingly at my best friend Amanda. "Just go for it. I mean, the least that can happen is you don't get in. Mandi leaned on the purple locker behind her and stared at me with a worried expression on her face.
"You know what will happen if I don't get in, E." She said, "They won't want me anymore." Then with tears in her eyes, she turned and ran from the school.
I couldn't help smelling my sisters fragrance as I walked by her room. It was strong and sweet. Like her favorite perfume. The kind she only wore on the most important of dates. Needles to say, I was concerned.
"Where ya going, Chels?" I asked in my annoying yet endearing little sister way.
"Nowhere," She said flipping her wavy blonde hair behind her shoulder before treating herself to another spritz. "A date. With Brent."