Pretty boring day (and another section of the story!)

Hey there dudes and dudettes!
Another day almost gone and what a boring one!! Well, this morning I woke up early and watched some TV. Then Mum and Dad awoke and came downstairs for breakfast. The two of them both had to leave at 7:30, Dad had to catch the bus and Mum was doing an extra long day today so she could have Wednesday off work.
Nick was still at his friend's house so I had the whole house to myself!!! Come to think of it Mum and Dad are still not home from work, Mum will be home at 4:30 (in half an hour) and Dad won't be home until 6:30 or 7:00. When Mum comes home we are going to pick up Nick from his friend's house.
The house had been extremely quiet today though!!! So after Mum and Dad went to work I had breakfast (French Toast...yummy!) And then went upstairs to go on my laptop. I spend until about 12:00 working on my story and chatting to friends.
Then I got myself some lunch (A boiled egg, rice and custard) and ate it while watching some 'Everybody Loves Raymond' that is an awesome show!!!!! You have to watch it sometime!!!!
So then I brought my laptop downstairs and did some more work in front of the TV. Which was good fun.
Then at about 2:45 I went upstairs and cleaned my bedroom (that's a first!!!) then came back down and have been watching TV ever since.
As I said before, it's been rather a boring day! Except for the fact that I got to write some more of my story!!!
Here's anther few pages of it (remember you have to read the first part beforehand!) Remember the main character is a Hermaphrodite (a person who is neither a girl or a boy) Enjoy!!!!

I don't remember the events that directly followed the accident. I felt like I was in a dream, people were moving around me but I couldn't communicate with them. Everything was fuzzy, I remember people crowding around me and trying to drag me to the ambulance. Away from the police who were inspecting my parent's death car. I wouldn't let them take me away, I had my hand practically welded to the car door.
Finally a tall, strong police officer came over to me and wrapped his arms around me. I nuzzled my face into his shirt, letting the tears stain the deep blue of his uniform. He smelt like my Dad, like aftershave and a sweet smell of pine.
“Shh...shh...it's going to be ok,” whispered the officer, rocking me back and forth.
“No it's not!” I screamed, “My parents are....are....” I dissolved into tears again, they fell down my cheeks and I didn't even noticed the officer gently pulling my hand from the car door and carrying me, wrapped in his arms like a baby, towards the ambulance.
He laid me carefully onto the stretcher that was just outside the ambulance. The paramedics soon surrounded me, poking me with all different objects. A therometer was shoved in my mouth, I coughed self consciously. The kind police officer rested his hand on mine and shushed me gently. He smiled and, as the paramedics came closer, started to move away. I screamed as soon as I lost sight of him.
“Don't go!” I screamed and the tears came again. I started to shake, my arms and legs were moving like crazy. My heart beating some hard it hurt. The paramedics didn't hear me, they just pushed the stretcher into the ambulance and slammed the doors. I tried to get up but I was too weak.
“Don't leave me!” I screamed again and grabbed at my hair in despair. “Don't leave me! Don't leave me!” I couldn't stop screaming, the tears were streaming down and they wouldn't stop. I ripped at my hair, pulling chunks out and throwing them down to the ground.
The sirens weren't on and we weren't even going fast but no one bothered to check on me. No one bothered to check if I was ok, no one cared. No one at all.
I didn't know who I was screaming for, was it my parents? Or the only person who had been kind to me? Was I screaming for my protectors and the givers of life? Or I was screaming for the person who had taken in their arms and let me cry and scream for my parents while they held me close?
I didn't know the answer, all I knew was that I was an orphan. An orphan that no one would want, an orphan that was different, too different to describe. My relatives wouldn't understand, they would cry for my parents and look at me with sympathy but they wouldn't understand that I had feelings, just like any other child.

The nurses said I was in shock, they said I was unstable....My pulling out my hair was proof enough of that. They wanted me to stay in hospital for a day or two, just to monitor me. But I refused, everytime I saw a piece of equipment I thought 'That could have saved Mum' or 'That could have saved Dad.' It was hell.
So the doctors called my closet relative, my grandparents were all dead and Dad had been an only child. I had never known Mum's family, apparantly she had had some argument with them when I was born and I had never known them. I had always assumed the argument was about the operation. Her family probably wanted to turn me into a girl but Dad and Mum were adament that I should stay the way I was born.
But apparantly I had an Aunt Irene, I had never met her but Mum had mentioned that she had a sister and I suppose that sister was Aunt Irene. I sat in the waiting room for hours, waiting, just waiting. Aunt Irene was sure taking her time, considering that her sister had just died, and she was now charged with taking care of her sister's only living child. I mean, most aunts would rush to the hospital to comfort their new child. She was now my guardian. I hated that word, it made them sound like a guardian angel. And that was wrong. When Aunt Irene did arrive, she was clearly no angel. She was older than Mum and no where near as pretty. She had grey hair, tied in a tight bun. Her eyes were tiny, and had a sly look about them. They were a deep green like a cat's eyes. Aunt Irene was wearing an old fashioned dress and I could see a petticoat pecking out of the hem. She had a crisp white apron wrapped around her waist. Her eyes weren't pink and she looked....happy....not sad. The minute I saw her I knew I didn't want to go with her. She didn't look kind, she looked cruel and old-fashioned. As soon as I saw her the tears came back and I started to shake. I wanted my parents, I wanted my kind, sweet mother. I wanted my stern, but well-meaning father. I didn't want Aunt Irene, I didn't want her at all.

The minute she saw me, she shuddered and looked at me nervously.
“Oh goodness, so this is the hideous child, neither a boy nor a girl! What a world this is!” Aunt Irene held her hands as if in prayer and looked to the sky as if praying for a lightning bolt to come and strike me off the earth.
The nurse frowned at her and whispered something in her ear.
“What does it matter if her parents have just died? She is still different, too different.” Aunt Irene snapped and the nurse looked repulsed. I just curled up on my seat and tried to disappear, like everyone wanted me to. “Come now child, we're going home,” Aunt Irene marched out of the hospital and I was expected to follow her. She showed me no sympathy, commenting fouly on everything from my hair to my clothes to my parents. I drew the line there.
“It served your mother right to have a child like you, that girl never did learn to be polite and to attend church.” Aunt Irene said as she steered the car out of the hospital parking lot.
“You leave my mother alone!” I screamed and Aunt Irene shook her head.
“Hasn't anyone ever taught you respect? Goodness, those parents of yours! I'm glad they're gone!” o
“Well I'm not!” I screamed, “I'm not! I want them back and I want you....I want you to go!”
Aunt Irene didn't look phased, she just tutted under her breath and frowned at me. I looked out my window, I started to shake again and the tears started to come again. Aunt Irene didn't offer any sympathy at all.
“Well! I would have thought you would be glad to be with someone who will allow you to get an operation to make you normal....God forbid your parents could let you live like this!” she snapped and I burst into huge heaving sobs.
“That was what we were going to do when they were killed!” I screamed at her and started to claw at her face. She slammed on the brakes as she couldn't see and pushed me away from her.
“You will act respectfully around me! I am your elder! And your only carer now!” shouted Aunt Irene.
“I don't respect you and I would rather go into an orphanage than be cared for by a person who couldn't see that my parents were good and kind people!” I screamed and Aunt Irene gave me a sharp slap across my cheeks. It left a strong red mark and left me silent but surly. I burst into tears again, Mum would never have done that to me. Mum would have gathered me into her arms and held me close. I was hurt but Aunt Irene wasn't going to say anything to comfort me.

The next few months were absolute hell, I hated living in Aunt Irene's house. It didn't feel like a house, it felt like a hospital. Everything was spotless, the beds had perfectly creased corners and the walls were bare except for the hall which held a giant wooden cross. Worst of all was my room. It had a small white bed shoved into the corner with a table beside it holding the bible. On the walls were pictures of the Virgin Mary and Jesus and in another corner was an ancient wardrobe. When I first arrived I pulled open the doors of the wardrobe and saw that Aunt Irene had not given me any clothes, nor had she bought anything from my house.
I was furious, she didn't seem to want me there at all. I thought of my parents, always so kind and accepting of me as I was. But it didn't do to think of them for too long, I would start crying yet again.
Though as hard as I tried to stop it, after an incredibly awkward first dinner with Aunt Irene, where she lectured and recited the bible. I collapsed into bed and the shakes and crying returned, in full force. I looked out the window and saw the moon smiling down at me.
“Mum,” I whispered, thinking I could see her face. “Dad. I miss you both, please come back and save me!” the tears rolled down my cheeks and my heart started to thump. As I remembered the terrible things I had seen that day I started to scream, I started to shout. And soon I was throwing things around the room. I grabbed the pictures of the Virgin Mary and Jesus off the walls and threw them. The glass smashed all around the room and I fell to my knees. Crying and gasping for air, my chest hurt, as though it was slowly being squeezed tighter and tighter.
I heard the door open and looked up, seeing Aunt Irene standing there framed by the moonlight, holding a cross, was frightening. I screamed.
Aunt Irene fell upon me and, instead of kissing me and holding me, she slapped me squarely across my face. I stopped crying, I stopped screaming, I was just sitting there, gasping and gasping. But Aunt Irene didn't stop hitting me. She slapped me again and again and again. She kicked my knees and hit me squarely in the stomach.
“What are you doing?” I cried, doubling over in pain. Aunt Irene did not reply, she looked so frightening that I started to cry again. “Stop it! Stop it!” I screamed but she didn't listen. Aunt Irene continued to beat me, she gave no mercy.
Finally she left me, I lay on the ground of my room, crying and screaming. My stomach was so bruised and I couldn't move my leg. My face stung from her slaps, I couldn't move from the floor. So I curled up awkwardly and tried to sleep, though sleep wouldn't come. So instead I cried, I cried for my parents, wondering where they were. I cried for my pain, wondering if it would leave me. I cried for my misfortune, for having Aunt Irene as my guardian. I also cried for why I was born the way I was born. Why me? Why not another child? And why did I feel that I couldn't relate to either boys or girls? Where did I belong? It certainly wasn't with Aunt Irene. As these thoughts haunted me, I watched the moonlight move across the wooden floorboards of my room. It lingered on my bed, it seemed as if the two objects were hugging. I cried out again, and my chest ached. I heaved, but I couldn't make it to the toilet. I vomited all other my floorboards, my tears mixed with the sick covering my floor. I couldn't stop crying, I would never have someone to hug again.

Well, it's not finished just yet!!! Still will have a few more pages to go but that is all I'm going to let you read!!! So, if you want to know what happens you are going to have to read it when (and if) it gets published!! Leave me a comment and tell me what you thought of it!
I'll post again tomorrow!
TTYL,
Jess.