Have you ever been 12? Probably, but everyone is different when they're 12. When I was a small 12 year old, there wasn't much to me. I was misplaced, sad, scared, and stupid. And when I say stupid, I do mean stupid. As much as I'd like to blame it on my environment, it's just not something I can do. Because at that point in time, I was moved around too much for it to influence me! The stupid things I did ranged from sheltering (hoarding) abandoned animals I found at the park, and stealing pencils from my step-uncle Carl's bedroom. Though in all fairness, animals need homes just like pencils shouldn't be left in a box unused. At that time, I lived with my mom's father and his new family. They weren't very nice at all, in fact, they were downright
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There was, however, a white cat that was very friendly. She was small, and long-haired with baby blue eyes. Every once in a while, she came downstairs to visit us. It was nice at first, but it stopped being cute when Tonette got jealous. That was her cat, and her cat only. There was no way her cat liked someone else, right? We must have tricked her! Tonette was a tad bit nuts. She would listen to all of our conversations through a vent that connected the kitchen and the basement, which she would not admit to doing. Even though on several occasions she was caught in the act with her rear end high in the air, and her ear placed directly on the vent. And despite how funny the image is, it was very bothersome and worrying that she did …show more content…
Now, we would make our own dinners, but she insisted that she do it because she was a much better cook. Though I would tend to disagree. Her cooking never smelled like it was supposed to, and it always had a strange taste to it. It was like it had been put through a washing machine, and then left out in the sun for a year. Everything was mushy, even when it wasn't the kind of food that should be mushy. But anyway, I walked up the basement stairs seeking to appease my aching belly, when I saw Tonette standing there with her hand in the pot. She was using her fingers to mix the food. Those same fingers used to pick her scabs. In her other hand, was a bottle of
There was, however, a white cat that was very friendly. She was small, and long-haired with baby blue eyes. Every once in a while, she came downstairs to visit us. It was nice at first, but it stopped being cute when Tonette got jealous. That was her cat, and her cat only. There was no way her cat liked someone else, right? We must have tricked her! Tonette was a tad bit nuts. She would listen to all of our conversations through a vent that connected the kitchen and the basement, which she would not admit to doing. Even though on several occasions she was caught in the act with her rear end high in the air, and her ear placed directly on the vent. And despite how funny the image is, it was very bothersome and worrying that she did …show more content…
Now, we would make our own dinners, but she insisted that she do it because she was a much better cook. Though I would tend to disagree. Her cooking never smelled like it was supposed to, and it always had a strange taste to it. It was like it had been put through a washing machine, and then left out in the sun for a year. Everything was mushy, even when it wasn't the kind of food that should be mushy. But anyway, I walked up the basement stairs seeking to appease my aching belly, when I saw Tonette standing there with her hand in the pot. She was using her fingers to mix the food. Those same fingers used to pick her scabs. In her other hand, was a bottle of