Two Faced

Title: Two Faced

Author: Haripriya

Authors Note: Hello everyone! I hope you are having a great Friday! I just want to say that the reason I picked this prompt was because it sounded a bit interesting, and at the same time a little funny to me. I wrote a very simple story, and hope this will give you a good laugh!

Diary Entry: #68

Question of the day: How do people view you as a person?

Many people might call me two-faced, because in a slight way... I am. Sometimes I am a little "bossy", or "mean" as others may define me. But other times, I am a person who is serious, and strict. Usually, when I ask anyone to describe me using an adjective, the first thought that comes to their minds will be the words I listed above. 

But my family has different words in their mind. The words "childish" might come up in their list, and to be fair, being with family is the only time you can act however you would like (as long as you aren't doing anything rude) so there isn't much of a reason to describe me as two-faced. 

Weirdly, I try so hard to control my actions and what I say, but when I am with my mother, father, and my too-perfect sister, it's like my brain won't listen to me. I know that I am in charge of my own body, but my brain doesn't want to listen to me. So the words like "gimme", and "lemme" will come up a lot during my conversation with them. Yes, I know they sound so unprofessional, and let's be serious right now, they sound absolutely silly.

But as I am writing this diary entry, you might notice that I am being a proper girl, and not writing any of those words. So you might have a hard time believing that I actually act like a baby when in front of my family. Well, I hate to break it to you, but it's truth, and sometimes the truth stings you like a hornet when you disturb its queen (how do I know this you may ask, and that's because I have experienced it. Word of advice, NEVER bother a hornet by running after them, because you will go to the doctor because you bruised yourself...). One example was actually last week when we were all deciding on what dessert to bake that day. 

"What do you want to eat for dessert?" asked my mother, multitasking. 

She was folding the clothes, simultaneously putting the dirty clothes in the washing machine, and asking us the question. 

"I don't really have any ideas, but I guess we could make strawberry shortcakes? It has been a long time since you last made them. Besides, we are going grocery shopping today, so we can buy lots of strawberries. If I am correct, I do think we have all the ingredients inside our kitchen cabinets." suggested my older sister.

That is where I lost it. I got so mad because I knew that my mom and sister already know the fact that I don't like strawberries. A mature kid would protest using normal words. But I am not a normal kid, as you know. I used some words that now I cannot take back.

"Noooooo! I want mommas chocolate chip cookie! I wanna, I wanna, I wanna! Pweeese mama, pweeese??". I can remember their chorus of laughter like this conversation happened two seconds ago.

Bellowing screams and giggles echoed across the room. I didn't know why they were laughing, and to be honest, I wasn't caring about why they were laughing at me. All I cared about was winning this conversation, and getting her to bake chocolate chip cookies.

Here is what my sister tried to say by coughing all the laughter out. "Of course not! We just ate them last week! I can't believe you have to act like a baby for that. You could just buy it at the school cafeteria or something. Control your anger."

I felt kind of sad that she said that to me. I didn't know what to react, and how to come up with a good response. I remember, feeling lonely and sad, sitting on the ground crisscrossed. (I know it wasn't the correct time to remember this song I learned when I was younger... but I just HAD to include it in today's diary entry: Crisscross applesauce!)

My mom replied, "Well... your sister is right. You don't need to act like a three-year-old to achieve something. You can just ask me how kids your age do. Don't always act like you are a little child. Yes, you might be the youngest in the house, but you are almost turning twelve. Act like your age."

If her words were thorns, then my entire arm would have been pricked. That is how much her words hurt me. I didn't want to be known as the little-kid-who-cries-all-the-time. I wanted to be known for something else, something better, much, much, better. 

But you may be thinking right now: Well, that was only just one instance you became a little childish, I bet the other times you are normal.

Sadly, no. Last night, we were celebrating with pizza because my sister (yes, it ALWAYS has to do something with my sister) got a good grade in her final year exams. There was only one slice left. Yup... that moment when everyone wants that last slice, but only one lucky person can get it.

My father had inquired to everyone, "Do any of you want the last slice? I feel really full." 

"Oh no, I don't want one either. Do you girls (meaning me or my sister) want the last slice?" my mother asked, exchanging glances with both of us.

Of course, I knew that I should have probably given her the last slice since she was the one who got all the good grades and stuff, but at that moment, I wanted the slice so badly that I did say something I regretted again.

"Gimee the slice! I wan it! I wan it! Don't give it to her! Gimeeee!" (you can imagine how embarrassing that was).

The good news was that I eventually did get that last slice, the bad news is that everyone scolded me, and said I needed to act like how kids do my age. It wasn't the first time I was having that conversation with them. 

At that moment, I didn't do anything, but listen to their words and calmly eat my pizza. 

Anyways diary, I need to stop this entry and go to sleep. I don wanna get sweepy (get it??). 

Logging off,

your best friend (a.k.a. Carmen)

~The End~