The Unconventional Life of an Oddball

Oddball. That's what people call me, well mainly my brother but I guess he has a reason to. I don't really fit in anywhere I go. If you look me over a thousand times you would never find anything normal about me. I'm not the average 11yr old girl. I'm short around 4'3, I'm skinny as hell, my breast are a 34A and that's pushing it, I have absolutely no curves, I wear thick black framed glasses with lime streaks down the temples of the frame. At least that's the color for today, my parents spent a lot on my glasses with interchangeable colors so that I could match my outfits in hopes that I'd make more friends; that was a bad decision on their part because I like when I don't match, so my lime green in my glasses don't match my black shoes, purple knee-highs, blue shirt or white jeans that I have on. My hair is the true definition of ginger as it is an alternating cross between blood red and flaming orange depending on the lighting in the room, I'm a bit pigeon-toed, my voice is really squeaky at times and raspy at others, I'm paler than bella from twilight and my freckles come in orange instead of red like most gingers I've seen. My only cool oddball feature I've got are my eyes, yea they are the usual light green but if you actually take a look into them you'd see the violet rings that lie within the light green cloud. I'm not complaining that's just my life but I don't really care I mean I still have plenty of fun by myself and my bestfriend...well only friend Kyle. So lucky me I get called oddball by my older brother, Edward (from twilight), midget, and my favorite: that weird kid. My brother tells me to count myself lucky because I'm still prepubescent and most kids my age don't know anything about puberty, but in a few years my nickname for life will be fire crotch. To hell with them who needs them? I've got my brother and I've got Kyle! Oh my parents too I guess...but they don't count they have to love me.

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Darren walked over to the glass backdoor, flipped the aluminum latch up turned on his heels and strolled back towards his room.
"W'Sup DOOM" shouted kyle as he slid the door closed and threw the latch back down into locked position.
Not pausing a second or turning back Darren continued bounding up the gray wool steps towards his room and shouted back, "Yo Kyle."
And with that he was in the sanctuary of his room, door closed music loud, allowing every bit of Thousand Foot Krutch flood his ears. Darren threw himself on his bed closed his eyes and drifted between the melodies of TFK and whatever the hell entered his mind. He thought about his life, it was a good life, his father was a Police Sergeant, his mother the head Nurse over several regional Hospitals, he had more than enough money, his grades were....well his grades could've been better I mean the kid was smart like seriously smart. There was literally no formula that he could not solve within his head, at the age of six he was labeled a child prodigy and one to watch for genius like characteristics. Since displaying his awesome comprehension of all things mathematical and scientific year after year he's received invitations to colleges, scholarships, job offers, you name it he got 'em, but he just really didn't give a damn. For Christ sakes he's just 15 he wants to be a screw-up for a while get some hair on his chest and be a teen and he's doing a pretty good job of just that. Darren was easily one of the most popular kids at school. He was a sophomore but he stood a solid 5'8 putting him in the 90th percentile, his freckles were permanent and the girls found it adorable, his eyes were the usual green but laced with golden rings unlike the green-violet eyes of his baby sister, Autumn. He was a darker ginger than his sister, his hair being a more rustic copper look, which made him look like a cool shiny-head brunette if anything. His name is Darren Day so he has a slew of cool nicknames such as: {D-Day, Darren "Dooms" Day, and Doom} his personal favorite was D-Day. He opened his eyes as the music ceased as iTunes reached

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