I'm Not Bulletproof
I'm Not Bulletproof
Late last night I received a text message from my brother Dominik. Apparently my family is going to have dinner at an expensive restaurant with the Laiho’s.
I really appreciate the information I receive from my family about their visits. I do not like the random checkups they do.
My brother also informed me that my family has rented a house not far from here. I am unsure whether I like that or not. I really don’t want to live with my family again. I enjoy the freedom I have here. I can do what I please here, I don’t have to ask permission to sit on the porch and I don’t have to hide things.
I still have to hide smoking, but I don’t mind that.
“Alexi, what restaurant are we going to?” I ask.
“I don’t know, an expensive one is all I know,” he says.
That really helps.
I don’t know what to wear. I know if I go in my jeans my mother will hit me.
My family went to a nice restaurant in Russia with another general; I wore the wrong attire, so my mother pulled me into the restroom and slapped me. I do not want that to happen again.
At least all of my clothes arrived from Estonia, so I have more of a variety of clothes to choose from.
I search the suitcase that has my clothes in it in hopes of finding something nice to wear.
I came across a white long sleeved V neck shirt, it wasn’t too low, and so it’s not that bad. I pulled the shirt out and a pair of black pants.
The outfit didn’t look that bad once I put it on. It would defiantly look better if I had a body to fill it with. But at least I am not stick thin; I still have some meat on my bones. I walk downstairs and waited for Alexi to finish getting ready.
I see him walk down the stairs; he was wearing a black shirt with a pair of ripped black jeans.
And I thought I didn’t have anything nice clothes.
He smiles when he sees me and walk towards me.
“You look pretty,” he compliments.
I blush slightly, “I don’t feel pretty,” I mumble.
“What was that?”
“I said thank you,” I lie. I don’t need him to lecture me about putting myself down.
“Alexi, I hope you’re planning on wearing a jacket over that shirt,” his mother says.
“But Mom, I have nothing else,” he says.
When he turns away from me to face his mother I see what the fuss was about.
The back of his shirt read ‘smoke crack and worship Satan.’
I saw him wear that shirt once but he put it on backwards this time. I lightly laugh at him, that shirt is truly classic.
He turns to face me and smiles. I should wear that in front of my mother and father someday.
But when I’m older and out of the house, I would never dare to wear that now.
“Are you both ready?” Mrs. Laiho asks. Alexi and I nod and walk to the car.
I really appreciate the information I receive from my family about their visits. I do not like the random checkups they do.
My brother also informed me that my family has rented a house not far from here. I am unsure whether I like that or not. I really don’t want to live with my family again. I enjoy the freedom I have here. I can do what I please here, I don’t have to ask permission to sit on the porch and I don’t have to hide things.
I still have to hide smoking, but I don’t mind that.
“Alexi, what restaurant are we going to?” I ask.
“I don’t know, an expensive one is all I know,” he says.
That really helps.
I don’t know what to wear. I know if I go in my jeans my mother will hit me.
My family went to a nice restaurant in Russia with another general; I wore the wrong attire, so my mother pulled me into the restroom and slapped me. I do not want that to happen again.
At least all of my clothes arrived from Estonia, so I have more of a variety of clothes to choose from.
I search the suitcase that has my clothes in it in hopes of finding something nice to wear.
I came across a white long sleeved V neck shirt, it wasn’t too low, and so it’s not that bad. I pulled the shirt out and a pair of black pants.
The outfit didn’t look that bad once I put it on. It would defiantly look better if I had a body to fill it with. But at least I am not stick thin; I still have some meat on my bones. I walk downstairs and waited for Alexi to finish getting ready.
I see him walk down the stairs; he was wearing a black shirt with a pair of ripped black jeans.
And I thought I didn’t have anything nice clothes.
He smiles when he sees me and walk towards me.
“You look pretty,” he compliments.
I blush slightly, “I don’t feel pretty,” I mumble.
“What was that?”
“I said thank you,” I lie. I don’t need him to lecture me about putting myself down.
“Alexi, I hope you’re planning on wearing a jacket over that shirt,” his mother says.
“But Mom, I have nothing else,” he says.
When he turns away from me to face his mother I see what the fuss was about.
The back of his shirt read ‘smoke crack and worship Satan.’
I saw him wear that shirt once but he put it on backwards this time. I lightly laugh at him, that shirt is truly classic.
He turns to face me and smiles. I should wear that in front of my mother and father someday.
But when I’m older and out of the house, I would never dare to wear that now.
“Are you both ready?” Mrs. Laiho asks. Alexi and I nod and walk to the car.