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Chapter Two Of Le Book -Title still needed-I paced my room nervously, Awaiting the arrival of my companion. We are about to leave for cross academy. Mom calls me down. I head down the stairs, tying my little ribbon on my uniform neatly. "You look so beautiful, Jenny.. The uniform really suits you!" My mother says, a sad smile on her face. Theres no hiding the sadness that lurks in her tired, washed green eyes. I know she had to send me here against her will, but what was the reason? I wonder to myself. I haven't the courage to ask her, Though. My little brother walks in, Sleepy, After a long day of kindergarden. He sees me in the uniform and dropped his lunchbox, let his pack slide off his back, And ran over to hug my exposed, cold legs. I'm going to have to get used to these uniforms' short skirts. He begins crying. "No, Sissy! Don't leave me!" His pained voice cries out. I can't help but feel horrible. I remember how I am his only source of comfort. My mom has not the time to help him. I was always the favorite for some reaso
My Little Book's Intro -Needs Title-Student 1- Jennelle Burgess
Hello. I'm Jennelle. I'm 13 Years old. I live in cloudy Seattle. I'm not very cheerful, But I enjoy the few friends I have. I have a few friends in my neighborhood, Thats all. I don't go to school. I'm homeschooled. My mother is planning to send me to cross academy, A school that holds a wide and diverse student body. I'm kind of scared, Considering only one of my friends are coming with me. I'm not too worried, though. I'm not the friendly type, So I don't have many friends besides the one who is coming with me, Willow. I love her name. It's unique and beautiful with a pretty ring to it. Oh. Below is my description I had to give for Cross Academy. It's all of my physical info. Below that is my mother's description of me.
Name: Jennelle Burgess
Height: 5' 3''
Hair: Short, Curly. Black with purple streaks.
Eyes: Bright, Emerald Green.
Special Abilities (other); None?
Parenting for Sex AddictsThe half-day.
We are not those folks that need an occasion to try. And that’s what they call it, too. Trying. As if the very idea of it is taxing. It’s not taxing and we are not those people.
No. We do not go by some magical calendar. Schedules aren’t really our thing in general. That’d be too organized. Too stuffy. Too… I don’t know… too planned. And we’re not the type of people whom plan.
If we could—plan—our lives would be much different. I think. It’s hard to say because this is how we’ve always been.
Our very togetherness is a result of impulse. I’m almost certain that the amount of time it took us to decide to move in together was significantly shorter than the amount of time it took us to remember each other’s names. We might have had our first conversation moments after that first… what I mean to say is we didn’t plan. Because planning would have been much t
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