A story of a boy who can do some pretty awesome stuff. Only he's not a hero. Or a villain. He's a teenager who just want's to be left alone. No villain, no girl. Just life.


2. Entry two

25 July 2013


Ok, pretty basic six days, lived my life, met up with some mates and hung out. Played football in the park. I hate sports, but despite that, I’m actually not bad at ball games. I’m fast, and I’m strong, and I’ve got pretty good coordination, but I just don’t get into the games. I find them dull, and repetitive. 

My brother kept bugging me, he wants me to join this football club. Apparently the manager saw me play in the park a while ago, and says that my brother can join if I join. As I said, I don't like football, and I really don't want to join a club where I'd have to play it every week. If, due to some miracle, I suddenly start enjoying myself when I'm playing it, then I told him that he'll be the first to know. He's thirteen, and, like his twin sister, kinda hopeless at sport. I've got an eighteen year old sister, and then there's mum and dad, both of whom work so we don't really see them till late. Alex, my older brother, gets paid to babysit. I often remind them that I'm not a baby, and that I don't require 'babysitting.' They now claim that it is for the twins only. Guess what. They don't like that. At all.

The twins have literally  been driving me mad. Julia has taken to singing in the shower. Loudly. Also, it's really out of tune. Meanwhile, the imaginatively named Julius has become obsessed with sport. He's kind of overweight, and it isn't really working. He's now become that kid who everybody laughs at, because he's trying too hard, and it ends up looking kinda pathetic. Mum would probably kill me if she knew that I was writing this. On second thoughts, she wouldn't kill me. She'd kill Alex or Julia, but with me she just has this look that says that I'm not good enough, not one of the family. It really hurts.

She found me on the doorstep, with a card just saying Kyro. It had no address, no nothing, just a baby, and a name. Did my birth parents, whoever they are, really hate me that much? Or was it what I can do. Did they somehow know that I was, am, a freak. I hate that thought, that I'm unwanted. Just because I'm adopted doesn't make me less than my siblings. They, for me, are my siblings. They are my family.

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