Mom

 

Mom was becoming slightly odd with her
obsession over what other people thought. At first I thought it just seemed
weird because I don’t give a damn what people think. In fact, I’d once typed
out that famous Coco Chanel quote “I don’t care what you think of me, I don’t
think about you at all” and glued it to the ceiling above my bed.

It was strange though, she was
constantly nagging me about what I wore, though she’d never minded my ‘unique’
(weird) sense of style before.

I liked to wear a lot of eye-makeup.
It wasn’t the fact i was wearing makeup that irritated her, it was the fact
that it was such an odd combination of colours.

“Katrina, I have no issue about you
wearing makeup, but could you at least wear it in a presentable way!”

She snapped when she saw it.

I’m not as badly presented as some
people. I mean, I know a GUY at school who always has red and yellow eye-shadow
smeared all over his eyelids! Compared to him, she got away lightly with a
freak that’s at least female! I just shrug or tell her that’s how I like
wearing my makeup. She usually gives up after that, and goes off to polish some
glass or something.

The End

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