Chapter 2 - there is no chapter title

Chapter 2

I never confronted her about my biological father. I read that book further, but to my dismay, nothing more about this guy. He disappeared from my mom’s life after seeing her for one night. But at least it explained why I barely looked like my mother. She has red hair with blue eyes. Also, she has the disgusting habit of inhaling the deadly mix of poison and tobacco rolled into tiny cylinders of death. I’ve shown her medical pictures of a smokers lungs. Told her about nicotine gum, and even tried to tell her about the danger of second hand smoke on my part. But, like a moth to a burning candle, she can’t quit her oral fixation. So, anyway, a few years go by after learning about my real father. I was wiser, taller, and stronger. And I have to admit, a little rebellious. Not to the government or anything like that. But to the stereotypes of the modern adolescents in todays social school environment. Why can’t I wear black clothing, wear wristbands, like emo and metal bands without being judged by my piers. Everyone assumes that I cut myself or that I am always dark and negative. But because I have two anarchy symbols on my wrists doesn’t make me an anarchist. And because I wear a cross, doesn’t make me a religious fanatic. I am not even baptized, and I have only gone to church a handful of times. But because of this, I was not what you call one of the popular kids in my school. Yet I wasn’t a nerd or geek. I was a nobody. Someone you wouldn’t give a second glance unless you needed something from me. So I had a lot of extra time. I read a lot, wrote, and tried to exercise on a regular basis. But, after a few months after my sixteenth birthday, I started to notice changes.

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