Broken

"Just pretend you're fucking happy," Jessie had snipped.

I had sat on the couch glaring at her with my arms crossed. "Just because my dad married you and you tricked him into thinking your heathens are his doesn't mean that I have to like you."

"Feeling's mutual, Georgianne. But it's a picture. You don't want to look like the only fat kid in the Holocaust."

I had flipped her the bird right as my dad walked in. He looked at Jessie, the camera, then at me. "Baby girl, please just smile for the damn picture."

"Fine!" I yelled at him.

Jessie put the camera to her face and I made the creepiest smile I could. She put the camera down again. "Jake!"

"Georgianne Elizabeth Fowler! Smile for the goddamn picture like you mean it."

I huffed, smiled for the 0.2 seconds it took for Jessie to take a picture then stormed to my room. My dad started to yell at me again, but my door was already slammed before he could. I plopped on my bed and looked at my mirror. Picture frames covered my dresser. some of my mother, who died in a car crash, smiling while she held me. Others of my brother who got taken by the state and my grandmother stirring pots with a jolly smile on her face. They were all lies. My mother enjoyed drugs more than being a mother, my little brother was a sickly kid whose parents didn't give a damn about him, and my grandmother put baking over everyone in her life.

In a fit of rage, I stood, grabbed the picture frames, and began to smash them one by one. Glass sprayed all over the floor and the wood splintered on impact. My grandmother's hand was severed from the pot she was cooking. My brother was torn apart. My mother flipped and flipped and landed somewhere just under the door. Friends I never talked to anymore, my dad with his mullet and a cigarette dangling from his mouth, me holding the little sister I couldn't let myself grow attached to, summer camps, birthday parties, their wedding that I didn't approve of from the beginning, our new house, my little brother a few days before the state found out about how our mom was treating us and took us away--

"Georgianne!"

"What!" I yelled, hurling a picture of my mom and her then-boyfriend (my brother's father) holding him.

"What the fuck are you doing!" Jessie yelled as she nearly dodged the picture, which hit a wall in the hallways and broke.

"I hate these pictures! I hate everything!" I screamed.

"What's going on in here? Why are you breaking shit!" my dad chimed in.

"Why do you care!" I screamed at him. "You let her mock me with these goddamn pictures that I don't even want and now you give a damn what's happening with me? Fuck you! Fuck both of you!"

"Georgianne--" my father said in his trying-to-stay-calm voice.

It was too late. As soon as he walked towards me, I pushed past him, slid between him and Jessie, then bolted out the door.