Your Questions About Gardening

My mother is delusional?

My mom is very happy go lucky the world is made of ponys and lollypops, in such a fake way though. she refuses to see the negative in life to a fault. but if you ever correct her she is instantly the victim, she always has this poor me i am this wonderful person attitude and I try so hard, in such a dramatic entitled way. she thinks she is the most loving wonderful mom, in her head. but she watched her boyfriend (who is now her husband and father of her youngest child) shake me like a rag doll when i was 6, on a few occasions, i even tried to talk to her about it (i am a woman just fyi) my biological father is a sociopath and he was horribly emotionally abusive to all of us, worst to my brother who he beat on a regular basis. she left my dad (we were both under the age of 10) and let him keep my brother until he turned 18 and got away. she blames me for “not telling her” what was happening to my brother or “she would have done something”. she neglected me all my childhood and never talked to me about any of the horrible things that happened to me growing up. I actually have always taken care of HER, I always held her crying even when I was a little girl, i have this memory of holding her crying in a parking lot when i was 5.
the first chance she got she remarried and had another child so she finally got her little ideal life, which is really made up of passive aggressive bs, and my little brother has no life skills as a result of lack of structure (he didnt know how to wash his hands or even his body or hair till i recently had a talk with him. he is 12! he would take a 5 min bath sit in the dirty water in the dirty tub and get out without soaping or washing himself!) her house is DISGUSTING and she makes excuses for EVERY tiny little thing, you tell her one tiny easy fix for a home owner and she gets all worked up and “just ANOTHER thing i have to do!” when she spends all her time gardening or reading a book.
what I am wondering is what name can i put to my mothers behavior? my dad and now older brother are both sociopaths. I would just like to know what personality disorder she most likely has?
she grew up in a very “normal” life, her mom was a kindergarden teacher her dad was a dentist 2nd of 4 children. she had a very easy life, she was always pretty and got plenty of attention and boyfriends, her parents paid for her college etc. the only bad thing in her life was my dad and he never actually HIT her. my grandma is very talkative “look at me” kinda lady and grandpa was VERY quiet, they had 3 girls and one boy. all of the women are very happy go lucky, refuse to deal with the negative things in life. my mom is just the worst, and most unrealistic.
oh and her husband now is not abusive at all to her or my brother. just me when i was little.

Can anybody help me with the plot of my story? Any ideas of what could happen next?

Entering the hallway, I kicked off my dusty brown brogues and sat them down next to a tiny pair of satin peep toes. A sunny yellow colour shone off the stone walls as it also did through the chipped old window. A white washed rocking chair on my right, a matching white staircase on my left. It was a complicated staircase, full of twisty, twirly banisters with small piles of books stacked on the sides of each of the steps. The only other object in the room was a large lemon coloured dresser, overflowing with old books, spiral shells, scented candles and tangles of pearl necklaces. Above that hung a heavy antique mirror.

She lead me through into the next room, her yellow hair cascading down her back. The kitchen was also alive with colour and character, which all belonged to her. Poetic prints of flowers filled the room. Pink roses on the curtains, yellow daisies on the white white walls. The cushions on the chairs that were tucked beneath the neat curved table were all of individual floral prints. Although to some people it could look messy, and could be a bit too much, to me it all fitted together romantically. I had always known she had liked flowers, but not to this extent. Maybe if I had bought them for her more often things would be different. Two tea pots sat on the table. One was blue and plump with white polka dots covering it, the other tall and far more chic with yellow roses winding round the spout. Scattered around them was a mismatch of jazzy tea cups paired with the wrong saucers. The table cloth which they all sat on was bright red, and gingham. It was swaying slightly from the soft breeze coming from a wide door at the back of the kitchen. Although everywhere I looked was a different pattern, a different colour, a different feeling, the whole house oozed tranquillity. We kept going through the flowers until we were out through the wide kitchen doors and in the open. I had only been inside the house for about two minutes, but somehow I had managed to convince myself that no other place could be so beautiful, so lovely or so her. I was happily mistaken.

The garden dipped down like a small valley and then up again at the back where a collection of orange trees stood, which probably made it easier for collecting them as when they were ripe I imagined they would drop off and just roll down the dip. On closer inspection however I realised that perhaps it wasn’t quite as easy as that. At the bottom of the hill behind some shrubs was a pond overflowing with a mess of water lilies, and of course; oranges. I couldn’t help but smile. On the stone floor at the front of the garden was a black cast iron table, which reminded me of the cafés of Paris, and reminded me of that weekend we had spent there all those years ago. Rainbow flower pots with all amounts of colours and shapes sat around the ledges by the table.

She sat down on one of the flower-patterned armchairs that faced out towards the garden. After removing a stack of books and a china plate I sat down also. The afternoon sun rays seemed to stick to me like honey, so I lay there and enjoyed the view of the wild flowers, the unfortunately placed orange trees, and the misty green mountains much further in the distance. But more importantly, I enjoyed sitting next to her again.

The silence that followed was not awkward. Or uncomfortable. It was more peaceful. Turning my head to the left I noticed her green eyes watering. Those deep green eyes that I knew so well. I couldnt work out wether the tears were from the blinding rays of sunlight, or brought on by emotion, but I turned away to look out to the monutains again, not wanting her to notice I had been staring.

“How did you find me?,” she asked, her voice slightly shaking. She turned to me and stared at me straight for a second, before setting her gaze down into her lap and playing with the pearls on her wrist.

I need help as to what happens next? What would be an interesting plot? What is their history together? Your thoughts, imaginations and ideas would be much apreciated in the continuation of this story!! x

The Hunger Games: Should I try to audition for Katniss in the movie? What are her qualities?

Katniss is the only character I’ve felt such a strong connection with. I think she would be my dream role. Before I read THG, my friend came up to me and said “you look like Katniss!” After I read the book, I got my mom to read it, and she kept on pointing out that the reactions/personality Katniss has, are like mine. I’ve either said/done the exact same things or had similar problems.

I am currently 14 years old, but no one ever mistakes me for being younger. They think because I am so “mature”, I am 15-23+. Even random strangers/high-schoolers think I am at least 16. By the time this movie is filmed, I should be at least 15.

I’m 5’5, 125 lb, I have olive-toned skin, grey/hazel eyes, long dark hair. People never guess my ethnicity because I’m mixed. I’m part Asian, but people have guessed Native American/Indian. This senior at school called me “Pocahontas” when I had my hair braided and was wearing a dress/UGG boots. People think I’m really “intense” when they first meet me. I care about my family (I am protective of my little sister) but I don’t always show it through my emotions. My mom is a nurse -she likes natural organic/herbal medicines and foods.

My hobbies/interests are mainly singing, but I’ve been dabbling in theatre/film/acting. Theatre is sometimes harder, because I sometimes refuse to put on a show for people. If that makes any sense. I can do it, and I enjoy it. I feel like Katniss in that respect. As a freshman I was in a musical where I was a girl, Hunter, Cadet.. I could show what really goes on inside Katniss’s head, and not just what the Capital shows. I do like pretty dresses (who doesn’t) but I’m not a tomboy or girly-girl. I can’t be sexy, and I couldn’t handle people being “fake”, so I often sat by myself during middle school. I can be fierce, and I have a sarcastic sense of humor.

*I write music, play guitar/piano, make jewelry, do gymnastics, archery, fishing, paint/draw, swimming, camping, rock-climbing, gardening/planting flowers…I love the woods and nature, but I have nothing against hunting. When I was younger, I’d always hang out with guy friends and play survival games/climb trees in our forest 🙂
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*Sorry about this being so long. (oops!) I don’t have an agent, and I don’t live in LA (I live in the Northwest). I have close friends/family in Southern California who have said I could live with them, although my dad has been thinking about moving back down there. My dad’s old friend/roommate is a producer who has made movies with Christina Ricci, Liam Neeson, Justin Long, and others. He tends to make more graphic “R” movies, but he likes comedy.
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I know it’s easy to relate to a character when it’s from their POV. I’d never really wanted a solo in choir before, but there was this one song I really connected with, and I ended up getting the part. I feel the same way about this.

*WHAT CAN I DO TO PREPARE FOR A ROLE LIKE THIS AND IMPROVE MY CHANCES? I really wish I could meet Suzanne Collins. There are several questions I want to ask her.