This is a question I’m forced to answer more often than I’d
care to admit. I’ve heard it said that
we are often victims of our upbringing and I’ve had to dig deep to remember when
it all started. As I’ve reflected on my
childhood, I’ve not been surprised to see that everyone has always been against
me since the beginning – specifically my parents and more so my
brother…Mitchell Royer…he’s trying to kill me.
It all started when that tyrant was born. Even as a toddler, I remember thinking that
this would not stand. My parents, Mimi
and Jim Royer, kept talking about the new kid who’d be coming around and I was
not impressed. HOW DARE THEY! I was certain they were replacing me and on
the day my mom went into labor, I was shipped off to my grandparents’ house. REAL FUCKING COOL MIMI! I SEE THERE’S A NEW ROYER IN TOWN! I was clearly being banished so I figured I
might as well get comfortable. Out with
the old, in with the mother fucking new.
You can imagine my surprise when I was picked up and taken
to the hospital to meet my new brother, Mitchell. What a bullshit name. My eyes squinted, upon arrival, in an attempt to
intimidate the wretched offspring. He
was god damn adorable. So this is the
monster they chose to replace me and now they’re gloating by showing him
off? It was heartless.
Mimi and Jim Royer, and their master trickery, have always
managed to outsmart me. I’m pretty sure
this is called MANIPULATION! HOW YOU
LIKE ME NOW MOTHER FUCKERS?! GUESS WHO’S
BEEN TO THERAPY!? Ugh…anyway, after a
moment of being in the hospital room, I was presented with a gift from the
newest and least impressive Royer. He
had gotten me a doll. I was suspicious but
accepted this gift. Mimi, that sneaky
little devil, went on to tell me what a big responsibility being a big sister
would be. She informed me that I would
be attending Big Sister classes at The Park District so I could fully come to
terms with what my duties were to be. AH
HA! OH SURE, THIS KID GETS TO LIE AROUND
ALL DAY AND BE BREAST-FED AND I HAVE TO GO TO SOME CLASS JUST TO KEEP HIM
ALIVE?! I was furious. This was worse than being pushed out but what
was I supposed to do?! I had to move
forward seeing as I was now single-handedly responsible for this ankle-biting
brute.
As you can see, my parents tricked me and then forced me to
raise the only child they’ve ever loved.
It was the beginning of a series of circumstances in which I was royally
fucked over by the world-at-large, starting with the people who were supposed to
be protecting me. After Mitchell was
born, I was relegated to serfdom. I
would never be able to outshine that masculine son-of-a-bitch. My grandmother had given birth to three women and
when she got a look at Mitchell’s wang she regarded it as a king’s scepter. I didn’t have a dick and I knew this meant
trouble. What was I to do? Mitchell was the first male born to a family
of bitches and the last thing they were going to be impressed by was my flimsy
jaydge. I was cursed with a vagina. I had heard that sex denoted power so I
attempted to assert this power as soon as I had a chance…in high school…with
anyone who was willing.
My four years at Lincoln-Way were debaucherous. I had been misled! Abandoned!
Beguiled! Mitchell was three
years younger than me but quick on my heels.
I was a senior when he was a freshman and I was quickly overtaken. At that point, my high school career
consisted of terminal one-night-stands that often resulted in aggressive gossip
and pregnancy scares. Big dick Mitchell
rolled in and was immediately Homecoming King as well as a star football player. My biggest claim to fame had been the etching
of my name into several of the boys’ bathrooms.
In my final days of school, I was almost expelled after a dean had found
drugs in my purse. AND GUESS WHOSE DRUGS
THEY WERE?! MITCHELL MOTHER FUCKING
ROYER’S!
To be fair, I was also partaking but I doubt I would have
gotten in trouble had I not been forced to carry around a bizzaro bowl that had been crafted out of some sort of extravagant bamboo. This thing was out-of-control and Mitchell
had received it as a gift from one of his many worshipers. I tried to explain to the deans that this was
my brother’s doing but they were not having it.
The real problem here is that I was trying to be masculine, cause
clearly that was the solution, but some of my hare-brained girlfriends had
forced me to start carrying a purse. I
was able to grasp the idea that you where supposed to fill it with stuff but
couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that it then needed to be taken with you
everywhere. I had filled it with my
belongings (cigarettes, weed, obscurely constructed bowl) but had forgotten to
actually take it with me past the high school commons. Ultimately, the deans took pity on me seeing as my
mother was the principal at a neighboring school. I was able to graduate but Mimi and Jim
thought it was probably time for me to move the fuck out.
They were really fucking tricky about that shit.
Mimi: Honey, we think it’s so great that you want to be an
actress. You should immediately move
out.
Me: Um…I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I have a D.U.I.
making it virtually impossible for me to actually go anywhere.
Mimi: If you move to the city, you won’t need to drive.
Me: But my leg is broken.
It’s not real easy for me to walk.
Mimi: We’ll buy you some crutches.
Me: It’s just that…
Mimi: Ok love you bye!
