Addicted To Love (GirlxGirl)

The Makeover

Chapter 1

The Makeover

Hi, my name is Angel Cassidy and if you think this story is typically heading towards a narrator who always talks about themselves, blah blah blah, you may pick your book back up, because i can reassure you it's not all about me. Perhaps for this moment it shall be, but only for a second.

I live, horribly, with my sister of course, ugh and that mess and a half wasn't exactly the highlight of my day. Being sixteen was tragically dramatic in my world, everyone assumed you'd lose your virginity by then, or perhaps have the hottest boy chasing after you and hopelessly fall into the category of becoming immature by falling in love, doing drugs, falling out with your best friend because she thought the guy you liked looks cute. Yet, the probability of being immature at my age is definitely impossible, for me anyway.

I grew up quicker than most could recognize, i was too busy trying to fit in, that i never quite caught up to myself, and to who i was turning out to be. I understand everything that's unfolding around me, crumbling into pieces as i rip them apart, only to discover that i need someone to put them back together. My parents were no longer together, when they split, the idea of myself- who i was trying to be- completely and utterly reflected upon others, i was incapable of disguising the truth through my eyes, but it was distinctly through my physicality.

My family never understood me, to them i was a ghost, casually haunting the house on occasions. To understand myself, was particularly difficult. There was that whole dramatic effect of screaming at the top of a building! Who am i? Who am i supposed to be? What shall i do? Help? I guess i'm still figuring out the impossible.

Nothing about me is perfect: my hair, my body, my ways, my thoughts. Nothing at all was perfect. I'm always following orders like i don't have my own mind to rely on and i can't stand up for myself. No matter what anyone says, i can't say no, it's like that word didn't exist in the English language when it came to me. The word yes, was more easy to say, and then i'd have a tone of pressure against me.

I don't have an identity, i hide behind the person i think i am, yet, i don't even know who that is. It's like i see someone elses' personality and then capture it, adapting it slightly to form my own. I'm a never ending character in a book someone is editing. I don't always have the same personality. The world is my blanket, the thing i hide under while life passes by. I'm a shadow among others, a faded street lamp among the darkness of the sky. It kept me safe and warm and i loved the feeling of everyone not knowing who i was...i was a mystery. The thing i liked best.

I'm not going to lie, this search for myself did give me a tone of friends, i think people like a mysterious person who they have to figure out before someone else can, before i can. They were a big part of my life, the only thing was they were completely different from me. The only real label you could put against me was 'tomboy', i didn't wear makeup or girly clothes. That's the only real information anyone could refer to me as.

My family were different too, they weren't the worst possible family in the world but they were extremely annoying and suffocating. I always feel trapped around them. Oh, and if we are getting into detail here, let's just say i'm not the best looking girl in the world, i do have my moments of 'hey i actually look cute today', but they never last long. Don't get me wrong, i'm not "ugly", i'm pretty in a way. I've just never took time to do my makeup or dress up. Nothing is right in my life and everything always seems to go wrong. It's like everything i touch crumbles beneath my fingertips.

When i was little i would imagine my life being like the scenes in the movies. I would hope someday a prince would come rescue me from the hell we call life. This wasn't the first time i had given up and i know it wouldn't be my last.