A little dose of me and my creativity

So I was in class the other day and our teacher was discussing
the baby elephant at the zoo that was rejected by it's mother but they've reunited the two and it's all heartbreakingly sweet. Then he asked us to write about it after saying the following: "You don't have any idea what it's like to have the person who gave you birth just say 'Eh' and desert you, do you? Can you even imagine what that elephant would be feeling? Can you imagine what it's like to feel like your mother just left you?"

So here was my response:
"Actually I do. It's not hard, really. I can't remember the day it happened or anything but I can still feel the effect it has. Can you imagine what it's like to be raised by people whom you consider to be your parents, but to feel the guilt of thinking of them that way because they're not really. They picked you out on a shelf, the perfect child, to replace the broken one they lost.

And you are the perfect child. Never arguing, never getting into drugs, even when you were a baby you barely ever cried. You're easy. So when you make it hard they disown you as the person they knew. Now they have a stranger sitting in a stolen chair. Replacing the one that was supposed to be there.

That's all you are, a replacement. To everyone. Something to pass the time until you hurt them, until you lose their interest or maybe just until they find someone else. None of them really care about you. They just act that way to e polite, to get you to stick around so they can use you some more. Liars, all of them."

And that's as far as I got. Obviously, I have some abandonment issues, but it seems as though most of my closest friends have the same problem. Weird. It must be something in the water.

So in other news, homecoming is coming up next weekend, and I'm actually able to take someone who doesn't go to the school. Yay! It's gonna be fun. The hard part is, deciding between the two dresses that mom bought in addition to the new coat. We're taking whatever dress I'm not wearing back (because we're poor and can't afford to keep both, despite Dad's delusions), but I CAN'T PICK. I'm very indecisive.

I'm actually feeling quite guilty. Mom shouldn't have spent that money, she should have just let me wear something I had. Ugh. I hate my emotions sometimes. I'm always guilty of something, it seems.

Ah, well, I may post pictures later of the dress and my date and me and all those cutesy pictures that everyone hates. Ta-ta for now.