Hi, Diary.
I’m Bloom (of course you know who I am). I’m nineteen. Clumsy. Introvert and extrovert at the same time (crazy, isn’t it?). Smart — I can write a poem, at least.
And today I’m officially homeless because Daddy decided that today, of all days in the entire year, was the perfect day to renovate my room.
So now I have to share a room with my sister Ashley.
(I swear I’ve never been to hell before, but tonight I might get a preview.)
So, Diary, let me give you a tour of my life before you decide to unsubscribe from this disaster.
Ashley — my older sister — is basically a beauty queen. Or maybe a rockstar… just not in the music industry.
She’s beautiful, confident, wears black lipstick, has piercings everywhere, and dyes her hair so often that I honestly can’t remember its natural color anymore.
To be honest, dear Diary, sometimes I wonder whether she’s actually my sister because we have absolutely nothing in common.
Then there’s my older brother, Levis.
He thinks he owns the house.
He complains every time it’s his turn to clean the pig pen. According to him, that’s “girls’ work.”
Convenient.
He smiles too much, laughs at his own jokes, and is mischievous in ways that make me question whether he was raised by wolves.
Daddy — God bless him (my favorite human of all time).
He’s hardworking, overprotective, and sometimes a little bitter. He owns a restaurant by the beach that basically keeps our family alive.
And me?
I think I’m the only sane member of the house.
(Actually Daddy could have been sane too… but he made me move into Ashley’s room.)
So my day started with a bang.
I had to pack half of my room and move into Ashley’s room.
No one even cared to help.
Ashley’s room is a...