My Mansh

While I was busy hating and judging, my brother Pete was out busy having a fantastic time with all his friends who worshipped and respected him. This is the conclusion I came to. He was well adjusted and friendly and hard working. His life was a big bowl of cherries, a sweet walk and a skip down candy cane lane. While I was followed by black clouds and ghost skeletons riding horses, Pete was walkin on sunshine, high fivin his fans.

Yeah.

It's weird that I thought this, I know, but it helped keep my dream alive, the one where I was suffering and miserable. This was important during my 13-15 year old period. Still, I was really only an evil troll at home; at school I was giggly and fun, maybe not popular but not, you know, worried about being stuck out in left field by myself.

Hey guys, over here!... Guys?

No, I had friends. I was busy. I had places to go, things to do! As soon as I got home though, my black cape came on. I'd walk through the front door skulking (yes SKULKING) down the hall to my room, and slam the door.

Bam.

If anyone else was miserable, I couldn't tell you. If anyone else in my family got a haircut or a pair of new sneakers, I couldn't tell you. It was every man for himself, that was my motto, live and let die, get the heck out of my way you weird carny/not-normal-family freaks?! Stop talking to me!!!!!!

Bam.

Anyway, there was a house a few streets away from where we lived, a huge, stone mansion. You could get to it quickly if you walked through the woods behind my house and through a huge meadow where the grass grew as high as your arm pits. The house itself was beautiful, a castle, with turrets and  chimneys and east wings and west wings. This is where I'd have my friends pick me up and drop me off. Well no, that's not true, I only took the bus from there. My real friends knew where I lived. But somehow I managed to get the bus driver to pick me up and drop me off right in front of this gorgeous mansion. My mansion. I didn't know a lot of people on my bus, seriously, I didn't know anyone on my bus, but it mattered to me that they saw me walk out of that driveway every morning and wave to "my parents".

Bye mother, see you this afternoon for tea and crumpets! Father! Have a great day at the office! Thanks for helping me with my homework last night! I love you.

I kept this charade up for two years and I doubt if one single person ever noticed. It was important though, it was important for me to imagine that they did. It allowed me to enter the world of delusion, a place where I have always been most comfortable. If I could have pulled this ruse off with my friends, I would have, but unfortunately I'm a horrible liar.

Oh my God, Deird is this your house? 
Yiiii-eeess?
It's so beautiful.
Well I...No it's not it's not really. I live in a ranch house with an electric range down past the meadows and through the wooo--hoo hoo waaaaaaaaaaaaa.

I was a horrible liar but it turns out there was someone in my family who wasn't....
to be continued.