By the way

Whoever the people reviewing are. Ed Crosswire and some idiot called Fed up. Grow some testicals and get an account. So Ill take your damn review seriously.

Also Im sorry I forgot to thank you Darkangelsnapelover for your inspiration. Marigold Summer WAS good. To these guesr reviewers. Dont like it? Then dont read it!

I also want to thank Theultimatecombo for the idea

My name is Kate Read. I have a story to tell... Its rather complicated so I ask that you bare with me. You see, a strange thing g happened to me when I was fourteen. I fell in love.

Teenagers dont fall in love, they fall into lust right? Wrong. Not me. Polite and well mannered as my teachers described me, I tried to hide my feelinfs with a smile and time with my friends from middle parents were really good to me but I admit, they let my older sister "Mc Bitch" as she was known to pretty much everyone who knew her, get away with whatever she wanted.

Part of me didn't like the fact my parents were too scared to say no to her wild ways and blatant disobedience, but the other part, the vulnerable side of me, needed a sister to talk to. Somwtimes I would wait for her to stumble in the early hours of the morning, smelling of cigarettes and strong perfume mixed with what could only be alcohol by the way she would hiccup and a sweet yet nasty odor would emanate from her breath. She gave me advice. Not good advice most of the time but I needed an older female to talk to.

DW often spent time getting dressed up like a dark gothic doll in black satin and purple lipstick. I loved her neon pink stockings but she would slap me or stleast threaten to, if I borrowed them.

I remember her advice vividly one afternoon in summer. She told me how to skip classes, get away with kissing a friends boyfriend without them finding out, and the best way to hide your cigarettes from your parents

"I started smoking at your age" she told me with nostalgia in her voice. "The tibbles, Emily and some other kid" she spoke fondly of the memories. "We hid them in Arthurs crappy tree house which became Mine when the douche bag left.

"Hes not a douche" I defended my older brother. Arthur was kind, considerate and fun to be around for many reasons which Im getting to...

DW tossed my protests aside and put some dark eyeliner and cherry blossom lipstick on my eyes and lips. "Thats better" she said, impressed with her work. She held me infront of the mirror. "Now you're looking more like a sexy teenager, just like me" she stated proudly, informing me that this look would get the attention of the "boy" I admired. I dare not tell her I was in love with a full grown man. She would laugh so loudly it would bring my parents in, then she would mock me openly infront of them and Arthur...

"Im not wearing it" I folded my arms. "If he cannot like me for who I am, " then I wouldn't want to date him". DW laughed loudly. " You're way too much like Arthur" she scoffed. "Im not allowed to date yet" she mocked my voice. "Mommy wants me home by 9pm" she continued her play acting. Did I really sound like that?

I huffed and stomped out of the room. I wiped my lips and washed the sticky eye make up off in the bathroom. I remember DW arguing downstairs with My mom as per usual about being old enough to do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. "Its high time you got a job" Mom told her loudly. "Since you refuse to study", " with your grades its a miracle you graduated at all young lady"

I could hear my sisters rude replies. "Youre lips are moving Mom, but all Im hearing is blah blah blah" those words were used to purposely antagonise my Mother. She loved us all the same but Arthur felt they were unable to cope with a non compliant child turned teenager like our sister. Arthur was like me in many ways and I hoped to be like him one day too. He had a good job, a fiancé and a great group of friends. Despite all the things I told my big brother when I saw him or he came to visit, there was one secret I knew he was never to know about.

I was a young girl, naive perhaps but not srupid. Even if the man I dreamt of holding hands with at night amongst a field of marigold flowers, wasn't living with my Brother and his Fiancé, I would not say a word. Even though it made me blush when he patted me on the head playfully and would laugh at my jokes which out did his every time, I uttered not a single word.

The hardest part of being in love with someone you've known your entire life is when you see them hand in hand with another girl, not just a fling or passing young woman in his life but a sweet and kind lady from school, who he had known for years, nearly as long as Francine had known Arthur or the annoying red head Muffy, had known Binky who babysat me sometimes with HIM...the love of my adolescent years...

Buster Baxter.


So how was it?