*This is an introduction of a story I am working on. I would like to know if it’s interesting and whether anyone would be interested in a second part. Thanks in advance for reading and feedback!*
If anyone had asked my dad what I was like, he’d say “Nicole’s spoiled – it’s just a phase…I hope”. He wouldn’t be all too wrong. I was the rebellious 18-year-old that lived up to almost every cliché there was about teenagers. I thought I knew everything and that my father – or any other adult for that matter – could never understand me. I felt the victim since my sister and I had grown up without a mother, and my father didn’t seem to fathom that I wanted a life of my own. He just wouldn’t shut up about taking responsibility, learning the value of money, taking my education seriously, blah, blah, blah! My sister defended him saying he was just trying to protect us so we are ready to take life on when it comes, whatever that means.