My mom is cooking dinner when I get home. We can't afford much, so it's only a piece of cooked seaweed each. I feel bad for her. My father left when I was four, right after my sister was born. My other sister has a different dad, and he left before she was even born. My brother's dad left not long ago. He stayed until my brother was about two and a half. Therefore, I feel bad for her. I know she gets upset. Having to take care of herself, a son, and three daughters is a lot of work, especially by yourself. I try to help my mom out when I can, but I can't help her with everything.

My mom could've had so much going for her, but she had me when she was seventeen. She had to put all her dreams on hold. She was the star athlete in high school and was a straight A, honor roll student. She's so pretty, too, even though she doesn't see it. She colors her hair a lot, but her natural hair color is brown. Her eyes are a grayish-blue. I look a lot like my mom, except for the fact that she's Caucasian, and I'm mixed. Our noses and our body types are also different. Her body type is pear-shaped while mine is in between pear-shaped and hourglass-shaped. Her tail is pink.

I'm the oldest of four. My sisters are twelve and seven, and my brother is three. I guess you could say my siblings are cute. At least, my little brother is. My sisters are average looking. One tries too hard to fit in, and the other couldn't care less what she looks like. They could look so much better if one didn't try so hard and if the other would try a little more. I mean all they have to do is look natural and take care of themselves. I think true beauty means to be yourself. You shouldn't have to change yourself to be beautiful.

They aren't home, yet. I swim to their schools to pick them up every day after school ends.

"Stacie!" my little brother screams while swimming to hug me. I love the way he says my name. It's super cute. Any girl would be lucky to have him, as long as I approved of them that is. He has a yellow tail and light brown hair. His hair is curly at the ends, but straight everywhere else. His face is in the shape of a circle, and he has the longest eyelashes that go great with his dark-brown eyes.

I adore my brother. He's the only person in my family that I can actually stand. I love my brother and wouldn't want anything to happen to him. Don't get me wrong, I love my sisters, too, but I can't stand them. It's as if their life goals are to get on my nerves. They're pretty good at it, too.

"Avery!" I say as I hug him back. He starts to giggle, which only makes me giggle, too. My brother has one of those laughs that make other people laugh for no reason. It's not one of those laughs that you would want to hide. It's one of those cute laughs.

I play with Avery for half an hour until it is almost time for me to leave. We mostly play tag. It's his favorite game. He loves to swim and chase me. He would rather be the chaser than the swimmer, which is fine with me, considering I don't have to swim as fast and get all tired.

Then, I help my mom clean up for the remaining ten minutes.

"Bye, Stacie!" my brother yells as I swim away.

"Bye, Avery!" I yell back.

"Wuv you!" I can't help, but laugh when he says this. He always tells me he loves me. He can't talk well, though. Neither could I when I was younger. My mom says that I used to have my own little language, and the reason I can understand my brother better than everyone else is because of it.

"Love you, too!"

~

As I wait for my twelve-year-old sister, I see this couple about my age that look so cute together. They are hugging each other. I quickly wish for a boyfriend to be mine, to hold me just like they are holding each other. I would love to have a boyfriend.

I came close to having one a couple years back, but I made a horrible mistake. His friend asked me if I liked the guy, and I lied and said I didn't. I regret it terribly. He had a great personality, and he was super cute. Best of all, he liked me, too. Everybody said we would make a good couple, but I don't know... I should have said yes. The only problem was that he was fifteen, almost sixteen, and I was about thirteen and a half. That doesn't really matter to me, though. I wanted him to be mine, and now, it's too late.

I see my sister swimming towards me. She is with some of her friends, so I know she will act snobby when she gets to me. She always does. An older boy is checking either her or one of her friends out. I guess you can say she's a little bit cute. I almost want to embarrass her, but I remember that I wouldn't like it if she did that to me. I would have called him a pervert, and my sister probably would have been angry with me for several weeks.

My sister is the total opposite of me. She's girly and has wavy hair, but she straightens it almost every day. I like her hair when it's natural. It looks better. I like girly things, too, but I'm mostly a tomboy. She has light-brown hair and is tall while I'm short. My sister hates going on adventures while I love them. Her tail is blue, and mine is purple. She's also very bossy and mean. I can be bossy, and I can be mean but only when I need to be. My sister also lives for boys. If you were to look up the word "boy-crazy", you'd find her picture. I think my sister is also fake. She's a whole other person around her friends. They don't know the real her.

"Hello, loser."

Here we go. Some of her friends start laughing. I don't know why, but fine, I can play this game, too. "Hi, can we leave these whores now?" They start looking at me as if I just killed somebody, but they don't deny it. Their faces are priceless.

"Later, Brittany," her friends all say.

"Later." She waits until they are far enough away they can't hear us. "Why would you do that?" she spats angrily.

"Do what? I did nothing wrong. You're the one who started it."

"Whatever."

"Why do you act like that?"

"Like what?" She still has an attitude.

"Like you run the world. You're a nice girl, but every time you're around one of your buddies, you act like a snob. Now, I know you're not a snob. Why do you act like a completely different person around them? Your friends? They don't know the real you. They're not your true friends if they don't know the real you."

"I don't act like a different person. Have you ever just thought that maybe that's the real me? My friends do know the real me. They are my true friends."

"I know that's not true, and so do you."

"It is the truth." I don't want to argue, so I leave it at that.