An Author Trying to Be Cool

That family is odd, whisper the neighbours. They wake up at noon. The youngest goes to college- she's fourteen! The oldest is only twenty, but he's already a doctor! Not that I'd trust him, I heard he cut of a person's arm to attach to a dog. Not much of the speculation is true. My sister is in college, however she is actually older than me and is twenty-three. My older brother is not a doctor- he's a taxidermist. He did sew an arm to a dog, but it was a fake arm and the dog was already dead. Also, he's twenty-three as well, since the two are twins. I'm only sixteen, though I will be seventeen in a month. I'm the youngest in the family. I heard, the neighbours whisper, that the mother bathes in blood and the father cheats every chance he gets. Also not true. My mother bathes in rose bathes, the water tinted pink. My father would cut of his hand to give to my brother before he would cheat. Mother and Father are like star crossed lovers, despite ...

I was very relaxed, which was normal for a Tuesday night like this, but I didn’t allow this to show on my face. In my torn tights, short dress, and smeared lipstick, I looked a poor sight. I supposed that I was a rather poor person, though I’d never seen myself as such. The very people I hitchhiked for always picked me up. I considered myself a lucky girl. Tonight, I held my heels, my two fingers hooked in the back of the blood-red heels I’d worn. My tights offered little protection from the road, near empty aside from a few lights dotted here and there along the road, but that hardly bothered me. Ever since I was a child, I’d been walking on still-warm pavement. It had been training for something I never thought I’d do. A light spotlighted me, the third of the night. I turned, hopeful, only for a smile to break out onto my face when I saw the long-bed truck with the man in the driver’s seat. My face twitched at the sight of the girl in the passenger seat, but I took what I could....