RooftopSinning's Autobiography

When I was younger, I always assumed the whole world revolved around me. I'd literally act like the queen of England. I'm not joking. My mom bought me this stunning purple velvet-y dress, and a pair of small black high heels, since my white ones broke (I went through a high heels phase at about seven.). So I wore them to school every single day for a week. My mom never stopped me. I guess she wanted me to have the experience.

At recess, for that week, my friends would walk behind me in a triangle, like they did with the popularity kids in movies. We basically learned everything we needed to learn from High School Musical and Hannah Montana. The world wasn't big for us. It was only those few blocks from home to school.

That week alone, was the only time I ever felt noticed. I was the shy kid.

I met my best friend, let's say her name is Maria. I met Maria at a field trip to the Home Depot. Which, I always pronounced depoT. She was in the afternoon class, and I was in the morning class. She walked up to me, no hesitation at all, which impressed me, told me her name, and asked to be friends. I was so excited, since no body has ever wanted to be friends with me, besides the two girls who welcomed me my first day during kindergarten. I said yes.

In first grade, we ended up being in the same class. We were OBSESSED with each other. We used to compare ourselves to Cece and Rocky from Shake it Up. She always said she was Cece, and I was Rocky. If I'm being honest, I always secretly hated that. I loved her, but she always tried to be, I dunno, BIGGER than me, somehow. Just because I was shy, and couldn't say anything about it.

I didn't like the idea that I was less than her. She said I was Rocky, because I'm the quiet, smart one, and I was her sidekick. We'd always argue about if I was her sidekick, or if she was mine, which I realize now, is pretty stupid. She said she was Cece because she was funny, and nice, and wild, confident, pretty. But she only ever told me I was smart. I wanted more than smart. I wanted the nice, wild, pretty stuff.

Maria taught me the first "in" song. See, I listened to music that nobody at my school had heard of. Like Alicia Keys, and Gavin Degraw. She taught me this weird song. The lyrics were about a girl who's listening to her crush's phone call, and his girl friend was going off on him about something. Then something about bleachers and cheerleaders. I learned in third grade what the song was actually called, You Belong With Me, by Taylor Swift. I'd never even heard of Taylor Swift.

We were alike in only two ways: One; We were EXTREMELY musical people. We loved to sing. I'd sing one song I made up out of the blue for forty minutes, acting like a pop star in my room. Two; The thirst for power. I wanted to be NOTICED for once. She always got the attention. She always took control, and got what she wanted. I was never seen, I just sat in her cold shadow. But did I say anything about it? No.

She then taught me the song, "Hey Soul Sister." Which I was completely obsessed with the song, I just never undertstood what it was about.

We had a little group of friends, but there was an even amount, so at recess, we'd hold onto someone else's arm, and swing around, dancing, singing the songs she had taught me. Everyone yelled at us to shut up. But we didn't. She gave me that kind of confidence, while at the same time, pushing me down. I was her step stool.

She'd make me say "curse" words, like stupid and hate, which I wasn't allowed to say back then.

I lived in a very protected home. Not in a strict way, though. My mom always had incense burning. To this day, that smell still reminds me of home. We had crystals and meditation, yoga type stuff all over the place. It was beautiful in there. Sure, you could call us hippies I guess, I wouldn't really care, I grew up in Oregon. The city I grew up in, was ranked the top hippy spot in the WORLD.

I always took a bath after dinner. Then after that I'd have my mom brush it out and I'd go to sleep. My hair, is extremely curly, and poofy, and even the barber said to me, eight years ago, that she'd never seen so much hair on a five year old. For some reason, I was proud of that.

I didn't have a dad. Well. I did, but it's complicated.

Sometimes if I really wanted to, I could spend the night at his house in the mountains. He always put on parties. Every night. Most of the time, I'd hid in his girlfriend's kid's room, Summer. Mainly because I plugged my nose everytime I smelled smoke. And they smoke and drank and yelled. A lot. Not in a violent way, though.

I'd run down the street, if I was ever with my older brother, Faolen, and we'd go to Elijah's house. He had a plastic pool, but it was all the same to me, because it was huge, compared to my tiny body. I'll admit, most of the time, I didn't have a swimsuit so I swam in my underwear. I've never seen anything wrong with it though, I was seven, it's not like I had anything to hide. Besides, in the community I grew up in, nudity wasn't that weird. I'd pick tomatoes in their garden. It was amazing.

My dad isn't Faolen's dad. At least, not biologically. Before he left, he was like a father to Faolen. I think it must've really hurt when he left. For both of us. Even though I couldn't even talk, I think it hurt.

I never tell most people these things. I seem to always be judged for growing up in an environment like that. I always love it, I loved the freedom of it, that is, until the real world hit me.

Notes

<3 So this is the first chapter, obviously. I hope it isn't to boring, my life is boring xD

xx
-BeautifulHood