Q&A: Part of First Chapter…please Tell Me What You Think?

Question by sarah: Part of first chapter…please tell me what you think?
My mother literally has the hugest ass I’ve ever seen. And I don’t mean a round, nice booty, I mean one accompanied by a stomach that looks like a heap of jelly rolls and a pair of tree trunk legs. She’s always struggled with her weight; the scale and past photographs are all the evidence needed. I remember flipping through her childhood photos one day, and the protruding gut and puffy cheeks screams weight problem. It all traces back to the doughnut breakfastes and bacon sandwiches her mom fed her as a child.

Regardless of how mean it sounds, I am honestly surprised my father remains with the verging on two-forty pounds woman. He is as fit as a male model and drinks flax seed oil. I suppose he’s hanging onto the good ol’ days, where my mom was supposedly the sexiest girl in school. We one day were gazing upon her as she bent over to pick up her furball dog named Chesnut, the love of her life.

“She’s just…voluptuous,” my father said. “You know, it’s the kids. All the pregnancies. She’ll get back on track.”

I was eleven when he told me that, and I was the eighth child. Yes, eight. My parents are obviously Catholic. There’s Isabel, Emily, Nathaniel, Alex, Daniel, Samantha, Kate, and me, Benjamin. I have always hated my name — it reminds me of either Benjamin Franklin or the dog Benji. Why couldn’t I have something simple and cool, like Stephen?

In contrast to my mother, my aunt was a stick. She lived on pot. She always carried around a “juice” which was really vodka and a splash of cranberry in a Dasani water bottle. I looked at her weirdly when she filled up her bottle with this beautiful concoction, and she looked at me and laughed, saying:

“What? I don’t want to live life being so health-conscience, what fun is that? Look at your mother, we are both prime examples of a pleasurable life.” And she took a swig of her drink.

My mother and father didn’t mind her alcohol or drug addiction, but what they did mind was her influencing us, meaning the innocent King kids, to share her bad habits. I was once driving to the movies with her and I was discussing the essay I was doing on the effects of marijuana. In a way, me being a goody twelve-year-old boy who believed I would die if I ever drank beer or inhaled a cigarette, I was trying to convince my beloved aunt to live a healthier, better lifestyle.

“Effects?” she said. “Effects? Happiness and no stress, that’s what. Have you ever even tried any?”

“No.”

She reached in her glove apartment and pulled out a bag of gross, green looking stuff. Let’s just say we never made it to the movie, but to an abandoned field getting shit-faced
@Hearts: Thanks!

@RG: I meant she was sexy when she was in school, but not now. Sorry for the confusion! Thanks by the way.

@Lana: This is purely fiction! I am definitely not talking about MY mother, haha. And thanks.

@Lily: Thank you!

@Smiles: It is more of a fictuous memoir type of piece with smaller plots throughout, rather than revolving around a singular conflict. And I will work more on the opening. Thanks for the comments!

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Answer by ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
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