The Kids Don’t Know
Chapter 1
Meeting the Grays
“Elle Danni Gray! Get Down here NOW!” My mom shouted. Mom and Dad don’t live together anymore and I amor that. I hate my dad, to be honest. My mom knows it too. “Coming!” I shouted. I walked down stairs to see a great shock. My brother, Dominic, was here. My twin brother. “Hi.” he said. It was very dull, like he wasn’t happy to be here. “Dude! Why are tu here? Duncan is your parent!” I said. It sounded más get-out-now than I meant it too. He dicho “This is the make-up día for when I was sick. Don’t tu remember?” I remembered. In response, I tossed my long, blonde, curly hair.
I guess I should describe myself a little more. I am wearing a dark blue falda with turquoise trim. My camisa, camiseta is a spaghetti-strap tank top. Same dark blue as my skirt. I have long curly hair about down to my butt. Maybe a little shorter. Staying true to the family tradition of dying hair, my long bangs that cover my eyes unless tucked behind my ear, where navy blue and, again, turquoise. My brother on the otherhand was a total punk-wannabe. Black camisa, camiseta with an electric green guitarra on the front (the green is Duncan’s “color”) and black jeans. His hair is forever falling in his eyes, and his bangs are (Get ready!) Electric green! Mom is all black with pale skin and Duncan, well, he’s hard to describe. He has a Mohawk, which I will admit is awesome, but its (big shocker!) electric green. Black t-shirt with a white skull on it, and jean shorts. The one thing our “family” shares is our amor of converse shoes. I have turquoise Converse, Dominic is high-tops, black. Mom has gray converse shoes, and Duncan has red high-tops. Oh BTW, Mom’s real name is Gwen and Dad’s name is Duncan (DUH). I also have a Pit-bull for a stepmom. Her name is Courtney. I hate her. And Dad. And Dad’s Junker of a truck.
“Come on, Donnie.” I said. It annoys Dominic, and I know it. He came in my room and sat on my bed. “Listen”, he began, “Dad and Courtney are fighting nonstop. I don’t know what to make of it. I mean, do I interfere o let them express themselves? Yesterday, Courtney yelled at Duncan because she lost an earring. Is that stupid to you?” I thought for a minute. “No. Wait, is Duncan happy with Courtney?” I asked. He answered yes, so I dicho in reply, “Let them fight. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and he will be miserable for the rest of his life.” He looked shocked. Eyes wide, open mouth the whole 9 yards. He asked plain and simple, “Do tu hate Dad?” He didn’t know I did, but I had to tell him. I couldn’t say it out loud, so I nodded. I told him it was because he walked out on us. “Then tu were forced to leave, and I well, got sad,” I finished my I-hate-my-dad explanation. Dominic said, “I’m sorry the court división, split us up.” I smirked my Dad’s I-am-thinking-of-something-funny smirk. “More like the Courtney.” I said. We burst out laughing.
Hope tu liked it!
Chapter 1
Meeting the Grays
“Elle Danni Gray! Get Down here NOW!” My mom shouted. Mom and Dad don’t live together anymore and I amor that. I hate my dad, to be honest. My mom knows it too. “Coming!” I shouted. I walked down stairs to see a great shock. My brother, Dominic, was here. My twin brother. “Hi.” he said. It was very dull, like he wasn’t happy to be here. “Dude! Why are tu here? Duncan is your parent!” I said. It sounded más get-out-now than I meant it too. He dicho “This is the make-up día for when I was sick. Don’t tu remember?” I remembered. In response, I tossed my long, blonde, curly hair.
I guess I should describe myself a little more. I am wearing a dark blue falda with turquoise trim. My camisa, camiseta is a spaghetti-strap tank top. Same dark blue as my skirt. I have long curly hair about down to my butt. Maybe a little shorter. Staying true to the family tradition of dying hair, my long bangs that cover my eyes unless tucked behind my ear, where navy blue and, again, turquoise. My brother on the otherhand was a total punk-wannabe. Black camisa, camiseta with an electric green guitarra on the front (the green is Duncan’s “color”) and black jeans. His hair is forever falling in his eyes, and his bangs are (Get ready!) Electric green! Mom is all black with pale skin and Duncan, well, he’s hard to describe. He has a Mohawk, which I will admit is awesome, but its (big shocker!) electric green. Black t-shirt with a white skull on it, and jean shorts. The one thing our “family” shares is our amor of converse shoes. I have turquoise Converse, Dominic is high-tops, black. Mom has gray converse shoes, and Duncan has red high-tops. Oh BTW, Mom’s real name is Gwen and Dad’s name is Duncan (DUH). I also have a Pit-bull for a stepmom. Her name is Courtney. I hate her. And Dad. And Dad’s Junker of a truck.
“Come on, Donnie.” I said. It annoys Dominic, and I know it. He came in my room and sat on my bed. “Listen”, he began, “Dad and Courtney are fighting nonstop. I don’t know what to make of it. I mean, do I interfere o let them express themselves? Yesterday, Courtney yelled at Duncan because she lost an earring. Is that stupid to you?” I thought for a minute. “No. Wait, is Duncan happy with Courtney?” I asked. He answered yes, so I dicho in reply, “Let them fight. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and he will be miserable for the rest of his life.” He looked shocked. Eyes wide, open mouth the whole 9 yards. He asked plain and simple, “Do tu hate Dad?” He didn’t know I did, but I had to tell him. I couldn’t say it out loud, so I nodded. I told him it was because he walked out on us. “Then tu were forced to leave, and I well, got sad,” I finished my I-hate-my-dad explanation. Dominic said, “I’m sorry the court división, split us up.” I smirked my Dad’s I-am-thinking-of-something-funny smirk. “More like the Courtney.” I said. We burst out laughing.
Hope tu liked it!
