This is more of a journal...I'm not exactly sure if I can even call this thing a chapter, After all, it isn't some punk third grade read-aloud. I'm Mary, Or someone else...you can't REALLY trust a book. I'm going to tell you the tale of my home, Not my house. My home. My home or Homes were called the dishwater apartments. You might be thinking, "Okay crazy lady, What on earth are the dishwater apartments?" They're actually quite self-explanatory, They are apartments that stink of dishwater. But, it's not that fact that matters the fact that does matter is the fact that so many memories were made there, memories which over time turned into a story. Maybe I should start off with a basic story, One that I & my siblings share. July 11th, There was a big BBQ party that the neighbors were throwing, So I dragged my sister to the party and we were just chilling & having a good time. I was just sitting, playing Uno with some other kid that's when I spotted him. Basically, Satan, also known a Jacob D.So I paused, planning my approach. I strolled on over and he looks at me and goes "Pimple Face? Come to the see the show?" Gosh dang it, I hate him. Somehow I kept my cool and said "Hiya future garbage eater.." he glared at me before saying "Just go bother some of your other little fake friends eh?" So you see my brother walks in carrying a geography book. I run towards him, grab the geography book and then promptly SMASH the book onto Jacob's head. Then, Jacob goes "Dang, she thinks she's scary. That didn't hurt."I looked around, smelling the dishwater in this smelly apartment. Then I see it,A baseball bat. And I swing, It was like there was a whole crowd of fans saying "Hit him!" yeah..and I did. And he cried and ran away. Later I got grounded but I honestly thought it was worth it.