Ohio is for liars

Click, click, click, click ENTER. Click, click, click, click ENTER. I’m on the computer again as always, talking to my friends and writing poetry. Though technically I’m typing my poetry not writing it, because my paper is a computer screen and not the usual paper that sits in a notebook and considering that there’s no pen in my hand, and I’m typing on a keyboard. More rhyming words, like right, fight, night, and then it gets deeper. I wonder if anyone even reads the stuff I post on here. The best online poetry site I could find writersunite.com. There are all kinds of people that post stuff on here, the ones with terrible upbringings, and the one’s in foster care, and the ones that are 16 and already pregnant. I’m not sure what category I fall into in this site, I’m pretty normal. A 15 year old girl, that goes to a pretty average high school. Well, that’s about as ‘normal’ as my life really gets. I live with my mom, my Step-Dad, my sisters, and my best friend Cameron. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking; why the hell does her best friend live with her, especially since he’s a guy?! Okay well, Cameron’s 16, and he dropped out of school. He wasn’t doing as well as he was expected to do, and his girlfriend Rebecca was already expelled for punching some girl in the face, so he just left. He’s not one of those trouble maker kind of kids, who light things on fire just for the fun of it, and talks back to authority, no he’s not like that, he just really loves Becca, and the only way he could be with her was if he dropped out. His parents freaked when they found out what he did, so they kicked him out, told him if he wanted to screw up the life they gave him to go ahead, but that he was on his own to do it. So here he is, living with me and my messed up family. By messed up I mean, family with a mother who’s clinically insane and a father who is totally gone. My real father, just left one day, told us he was going to work to give his boss something, and he just never came home. That’s probably why my mom went insane, but now that she’s starting to get better she found a new husband, my ugly Step-Dad. By ugly I don’t mean ugly looking, he’s pretty crazy too; he broke my mother’s favorite kitchen table one time. It was really special because everyone in the family had built it together; it was sort of a one of a kind, with big giant legs, and swirly patterns hiding underneath. Yeah your’e probably reading this and saying, he broke a table? How the hell did he do that? Yeah well, that’s a long story.