Two Poor Kids

My name is Erin Claires. I'm in counseling, and a bunch of other things to deal with my 'problems' as my mom calls them. I'm 'suffering' from depression, as my dad calls it, but honestly, I don't know what all the big fuss is about. I know I have a problem, I have for a long time, but I just think I shouldn't have to start seeing a counselor on top of everything else.

I'll just go ahead and admit, that I live in a very... Well, let's be honest, I live in a really white privileged neighborhood. I really do NOT like it there; All of the lawns are perfectly mowed at one inch exactly, they are all the same shade of green, too. Which is creepy to me. All the houses in my neighborhood are big and fancy, all with bright red doors, or white doors.

See, my parents don't exactly "approve" of who I am. I dye my hair a pretty aqua green color, and wear a lot of mascara and eyeliner. The way I see it, it shouldn't matter how I dress, and how I act, since it's just who I am, right? Not so much. I guess once you have enough experience with all the "low lives" as my mom calls them, you start to pick up a few things.

I have depression, anxiety, and almost every fucked up thing you could think of that involves sadness. Yes, I do cut, but I just don't see anything wrong with it, since I'm not ACTUALLY hurting anyone, and it's not like I'm killing myself.

My parents are making me go to my first counseling session with a lady, named Tina tomorrow, which by the way, it's three days until my birthday, so I think it's a bit unfair to go right now.

My birthday is on April fifteenth, which makes me an Aries. Believe me, you'll understand how much of an Aries I am soon.

I don't have a best friend, I kind of just walk a few miles down the street to where the "low lives" or as I call it, the cool people live, and see who wants to hang out with me.

My mom and my dad aren't really on board with me hanging out with people like them though, since they get high a lot, but hey, so do I, so who cares? My parents don't really like any thing about me, now that I think of it, oh wait, nope! I always knew that. They hate my hair color, the amount of make up I wear, the "slutty" clothes I wear, and by slutty they mean not proper church clothes.

I'm sixteen right now, but I'm almost seventeen. I know what you're thinking, 'Oh my god, you're to young to go down the wrong road like that!' or something like that, right? Believe me, I am completely fine with my life. But with this counseling thing, what good could possibly come out of this?

Notes

Hey guys :) I'm really excited for this story, and I hope you read some of my other stories! I just completed two of them, so :)

(But actually, my birthday is in three days on April fifteenth :D)

xx
-BeautifulHOOD