Summer Break

“Mama said you need to put that book away and watch TV with us,” said my little sister, Rose.

She was no rose at all. Nope, not her. She was mean as a rattlesnake. The family I lived in wasn't any better. They preferred television over books. Junk food and fast food over fresh home-cooked meals any day. I wished I was born in a more pleasant family. This family was out of control. It was a walking nightmare. The kind of nightmare that wakes you up in the middle of the night screaming. I'm serious. You should try living in my shoes and see how it feels. Trust me, you won't survive a millisecond.

“Don't talk to me, you little brat,” I replied.

Oh, I forgot to tell you my name. My horrible name. Well, here goes. It's Penny. I know you're probably thinking that it's not much of a bad name, but that's because I didn't say my middle name yet. You see, my parents thought it would be hilarious to name my middle name a coin as well. My full name is Penny Dime Baker. Could be worse though. My sister's name is Rose Daisy Baker. My mom's name is Diana Ross Baker (apparently my granny was into celebrity's), and my dad's name is Chip Potato Baker

(apparently my dad got his humor in naming names from his parents). You probably think that these are not our real names, but the horrible truth is that it is.

No one at my school knows none of my family's middle names, not even mine. If they knew my middle name then I would probably drop below zero of the popularity line (yes, there's such a thing as a popularity line). Actually, I'm pretty much the coolest person there (in my opinion). I go to an all girl's prep school. Everyone calls it AGPS. That's the only thing I like about my family, they're rich! Just between us though, I think my dad is a criminal. I'm thrilled at the fact that I won't be staying in this crummy house for long. I'm currently on summer break and can't wait to get back to school next week. Anyway, back to real life.

“I'm telling on you! You called me a brat!”

“Don't you see I'm trying to read?” I asked, annoyed. I went into the den and sat on the couch. Sometimes I wish I was adopted. I'm a mirror image of my mom and my hair is the same color as my dad's, brown. Just because I look like them doesn't mean I act like them, though. I don't know how I survived the summer.