My names Leena Foster. I was born on a Monday, a day most people find to be the worst day out of the seven. The day most people don’t look forward too. . I’m sure my mom thought the same a Midnight when her water broke and it was time for me to come. I’m the oldest of four. The one that wasn’t planned the “mistake”.

My mother met my father when she was 15. Her parents wanted nothing more then for her to stay away from him. Begged and pleaded. But she was in love. Nothing could keep her away. Until the week after my mother found out she was pregnant. She asked him to met her at their secret place. Their place they went to, to block away the world to keep everyone who disagreed with them being together away. A place where they made love. And sung sweet nothings into each others ear. He met her there at 5:00 pm on a beautiful Friday afternoon. He could see the glow on her face but also the rejection in her eyes. 

she told him the news. His big brown eyes glazed over, he reached his arms out and took her close to him. He promised her forever! He told her he would never let her be alone. That he would always be there. No matter what happened. and for that she hated him! Every time she sits down and tells me the story she seems lost and drained. Gill Foster was and always will be the only love of her life. Even through the years and 3 kids later, she still has the glow the glow my father called hers and hers only. 

Two years later my mom met a guy named Turner, he was five years older then her. They got married, on a beautiful Friday after noon at 5:00 pm. Soon after the honey moon my mom found out she was pregnant with my sister. They named her Summer. Then along came my brother lance then the youngest Carla. Iv always been pushed to the side since my met Turner. It likes she got her happily ever after. I think i remind her of what life she could of had, the life she wanted. 

Tomorrow is my birthday. The 22Nd of august, is the day i was born. I will be turning 15, seems to me i should be turning about 30. I haven’t really had the childhood most girls do. Never got to wear pretty dresses. Never had mommy brushing my hair. I think i would i would have liked those things. I sit on the couch with my short wet hair brushed back with a little purple clip while i watch Caren brush my youngest sister carlas hair. Every morning she wakes her up, puts her into a beautiful lacy dress. Puts a silk ribbon around her her head to hold back her hair. Carla is almost 6. She has my mother beauty. I wish i could have inherited my moms perfection.

Everyone morning i hold the hands of my brother and sisters, as we walk down the dirt path to get onto the bus for school. They look as though someone truly cares for them. Looks someone put some thought into what they look like every single day of their life. I hardly put any. Most the time its jeans sneakers and a decorated t shirt of some kind. The bus pulls up. and as always the front is filled with the upper class kids. As always i make my way to the back of the bus.

“Good morning” i hear from the set beside me. It was my best friend Landon. We met in first grade. He reminded me a lot of myself. Same as me landons father passed away before he was born. I can confide in him no matter how crazy the subject may seem. I’m in love with him. But so does every other girl in junior high school. But with me its real. Id be completely alone if it wasn’t for him. He doesn’t talk much. I think it may because his home life isn’t the good. His mom is a drunk. Landon use to come to our house and eat super with us every night. But here lately he stopped coming. I haven’t him why, if he wants to talk, which is something he hardly does, then im here to listen. 

I haven’t decided if i like going to school or not. Sometimes id rather be here then at home with my family. Im in the 8th grade. My teach reminds me alot of my mother. Mrs.Adams. I dont really have to put very much effort into much at school. I guess i should though. I dont feel awarded in the end. No one really pays attention to me anyways. 

At school, my favorite subject is reading. But that is only because it gives me an escape from reality.  I like to pretend i am the character, pretend im living their life. Most the time wishing mine could be the same but at the same time feeling guilty for wishing my family to like some made up fantasy in a book. 

On the bus ride home i set as close to the inside window as possible. I lay my head on the medal window frame and push myself to sleep as fast as possible. I dont like the bus. The laughter and screaming from all the other children give me a headache. They seem so free. Why do i feel so different? what makes me the odd one out of a billion people. I wish i could be normal. Think like a normal 15 year old girl. You know the ones that think fashion and boys is what this world revolves around. But no not me.

I think it has something to do with being born a Monday. If someone told you Monday was there favorite day of the week wouldn’t you think in your mind “ whoa a weirdo” . I wish i had one topic to stay on. Something i could write a novel about and keep your full attention the whole time. But with my life i think thats impossible.

I have strange