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o0jinglbells0o

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<div style="border:1px #ccc solid; background-image:url('/images/ray.gif'); font-family:arial; width:200px; padding:5px;"><center><div style="font-size:20px;"><a href="/story/o0jinglbells0o/27013">UnWANTED (chapter 1)</a></div><table><tr><td width="50"><div style="color:#2CC362; font-size:15px; padding-top:4px; background-image:url('/images/profratebg.gif'); background-repeat:no-repeat; width:44px; height:26px; text-align:center; font-weight:bold; vertical-align:middle; padding-top:8px; padding-left:1px; " valign="top">6</div></td><td><div style="height:100px;width:100px; padding-top:9px; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-image:url(/images/storyCover.png);"><a href="/story/o0jinglbells0o/27013"><div style="margin-left:9px; __padding:0px; height:90px; width:70px; background-repeat:no-repeat; background-image:url('http://www.testriffic.com/storyfiles/27013.jpg');"></div></a></div></td></tr></table></center></div>

+ 8	UnWANTED (chapter 4)
+ 7	unWANTED (chapter 3)
+ 7	UnWanted (chapter 2)
+ 6	UnWANTED (chapter 1)

At that second, I even felt a little sorry for myself.  Did my parents have so little faith in me? Did they truly believe I was insane.

This week, my parents broke the news, they were sending me to a "special help" school, to help me with my "specific needs".  For weeks, i've been seeing someone, following me, watching me...  They think i'm delusional.  And what do you do with a delusional daughter? send her to hell... or Belvue, same difference.

 Already they seem happy to get rid of their failure daughter.  My older sister being in UC berkeley, and my little sister already winning scholarships, i, with my 3.85 grade point average, was a disappointment.  OF course, when i started freaking out about seeing someone shadowing my steps, and spotting eyes looking into my bedroom window, it didn't really help.

So now, i'm stuck in a rank cab, with two suitcases of nothing and an itchy plaid skirt ( Belvue was a uniform-only asylum). 

.................................................................................................

When I reached my new "residential area", i walked briskly into a lobby, cheesy elevator music and all; even then, i could feel eyes upon me.  As i sat down in the overheated room, i attempted to make out the whispers of my parents and the receptionest. ".... Cassy... stalker issues... adoption".  Were they offering me up for adoption? Wow, i feel loved.

 "Cassy?"

The receptionest called over to me: I stood up, the vinyl seat seemed to wax the back of my sweaty, sticky legs.  I felt slightly nauseous as I followed the receptionest to my new bedroom.

As i walked through the long halls, i caught glimpses of other residents; some look almost normal, except the constant twitch and occasional growl.  One girl tugged and fidgeted with the collar on her shirt, slowly stretching it out to ununiformed droop.  Another frail looking boy seemed curled up in a fetal position whimpering.  Nice batch of kids.

 

(to be continued)

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