Rosina: Bloody Twigs....Mature

Well, this is interesting, I think to myself, pulling twigs from my hair. Melody's in a mood - not supprising. Oliva's an OCD case. Oh, Lily and Sam obviously have the hots for each other.

"OW!" I scream as a twig pulls at my roots, making my eyes water. Fuck fuck fuck fuckety fuck!

Y' know, you're language truely is terrible.

Y'know, Riddle. You really are uptight! I scowl at it, wandering up the stairs and go into an empty room. "You are a room, you shall be my room and nobody else's." I mutter, going to a mirror. Anyway, Riddle, what are you?

Me? I'm anything you want me to be...

I blink. Seriously, what, are, you?

I'm... this and that... Lily and some of the others like me as a girl. It scoffs.

So, what? Are you a boy then?

BOY? Please, I'm older than the lot of you added together and times that number times thirty.

Hey, all you had to say was, I'm too old to be classed as a boy. I find some sharp, taylor sissors. I look at myself in the mirror, lick my lips and cut randomly getting all the twigs out. By the end my hair's in an awesome punky bob, highlighting my 'great checkbones' and my family has always said.

I'm an not too old, I'm a teenager by my kinds standards. I u-hmm in response, he continues. Really, I am. Anyway, nice hair.

"Thanks." I slide on the slippy wooden floor boards and look out of the window at the forest in front of the cottage. Smoke in the far distance catches my eye. "Oh Shit!"

The End

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