Out of my mother's uterus came me- a screaming, temperamental bundle of burning hatred who was destined to become the jaded, angry, seventeen year-old girl I am now.
And as a child, I think I caused my parents perhaps a small amount of psychological damage. My mother would hear often of the ghosts that lived in our attic, the red eyes under my sister's crib, and the long-tailed thing. I almost drowned once too, which certainly didn't help matters.
Now however, I am far too unproductive to do much beyond sitting at my laptop scrolling blankly through Tumblr, yet another lifeless lump of flesh that could not move much less if I were dead.
Occasionally I venture downstairs and converse with my family in a series of grunts and dinosaur sounds. The first time I did this, it was apparently a rather unexpected occurrence. It went like so:
*Door opening*
Dad: "I'm home!"
Mom: "Welcome home, honey!"
Me: *Makes loud dinosaur noise of welcome.*
Mom: *Looking at me with horror as though I've brought dishonor down upon our great ancestors* "What was that?"
However, it didn't take her too long to get used to this new, faster and energy-conserving language, because only a few weeks later...
Me: *Walks into house after school, drops bag, makes a sound vaguely like a triceratops playing a trumpet*
Mom: *From somewhere else in the house* "Welcome home, Serina."
So here I am now, about to go into my final year of high school sporting my brand new Disney shirts, my spiffy collection of cosplay wigs, and my freakishly strong emotional connection with my cat.
And not to sound like a cliched teen movie opening, but, surely it's gonna be interesting.
This is me. Don't be fooled, I usually look less excited, but I was feeling particularly peppy here.
