• "California Loves You". That's the first thing I saw in the airport. It was a corny shirt, the classic white with the big black letters. I snorted, walking towards the bathroom to fix my makeup. California certainly did NOT love me. In fact, quite the opposite. I hadn't been here since we had visited my Auntie Barbie when I was eight. I was the weird little girl, who wore the pokemon shirts, and scared the other children. After that trip, I threw a tantrum, and hadn't seen Los Angeles since. Now here I was, back again. This time, alone. And this time, I wasn't allowed to leave.

    So why wasn't I allowed to leave? My parents caught me having a smoke with a few of my friends, and they flipped. At first, my sidekick, ipod, liscence, and freedom to roam sunny Orlando were gone. Then, after much debate whilst I was "asleep", the people I call mom and dad decided to ship me across the country here. The ultimate punishment.

    I am outside. - Auntie Barbie

    I sighed. I'd gotten everything back, but I'd give it all away if I could just be home. I missed all my friends, the crazy late nights, sleepovers, fights by the Seven Eleven, the concerts, tanning on the beach, and oh God how could this possibly be happening?

    Feeling the dejected sense of defeat, I trudged towards the automatic doors, and spotted my aunt. She was still as tacky as ever, with her retro red and white polka dot dress, and her big red sunglasses. Jesus. "Izzyy-boo! Is that you?!" She squealed, running towards me, tripping over her hopelessly horrible white kitten heels. Kill me now. "Umm, yeah. Hi Aunt Barbie." She tackled me in a smothering hug, forcing me to breathe in her strong perfume. "Look at you! You're so big! Taller than me! How old are you now? Oh Izzy-boo! What have you done to your hair?" She threw questions at me as we walked towards her black crossover car. "Umm, I'm sixteen, auntie." She gasped, turning the car on, and starting to pull out. "It's really been eight years! Oh my! Boy do I feel old!" Family was family, but I still wanted to slap her, then hopefully she'd start acting like a normal person should act. "Look at your hair! I can't believe your parents let you do that! Tsk Tsk." Really? Did this woman really just say "tsk tsk"? I looked in the mirror. My hair was a bleach blonde, and I sported leopard print side bangs, with a bit of teal at the roots, and streaked through the long hair that rested just below my chest. That, to me, was beautifully perfect. "I think it looks beautiful." I stuck out my lip stubbornly. She glared at the spider bites, and the septum piercing. "You look absurd," She sighed. "But what can you do? At least you try." Did she seriously just say that to me? I look absurd?

    We had hit a red light, and I glanced around. Los Angeles was still pretty cute. I wouldn't call it "The City Of Angels" though. More like, the city of coffee shops, designer boutiques, and tons of people walking around. It was right near the beach too, which made me sort of happy. I placed the large skull candy headphones over my ears, blocking out the hokey oldies music that Barbie had chosen to blare at a twelve volume. A bit too loud for Sunny and Cher, if you ask me. I began to lose myself in my own music, and murmur the lines along with it. "We will never sleep. Cause sleep is for the weak. And we will never rest. Til we're all ******** dead..." "Watch your language, missy!" Barbie said, with her shiny red mouth forming an "o" of shock. I gave her a confused look. "I don't tolerate language like that in my home. Missy doesn't like it either." Missy? Who was missy? "She hisses and spits and claws the furnature if you talk like that." Oh. Missy was a cat. Of course.

    Pulling into the smooth gray driveway, she shut the car off. "Your room is in the attic. Oh don't look at me like that! It's a nice room. Big too. Do whatever you like with it, I don't care." Rolling my eyes, I hauled the two heavy bags, and my messenger up two flights of stairs, up to the attic. Wow.