So I've decided to start a new story since my old one is coming to an end. For those of you who are reading this because you loved "Life of a Rose" and its sequel "Life of a Blossomed Rose" I'm glad you liked my stories enough to keep reading my work. For those of you who thought to give this a try I hope you like it and please feel free to read my other pieces. Please remember to review at the end of this chapter to tell me if I'm doing well and if I should continue. Anyways enjoy!
Disclaimer: All characters, except for my own that I might add, all belong to Rachel Mead.
Moving is something you'll do sometime in life. Whether it's moving on from a bad break up, moving past a dark time in life, or just plain packing up and leaving…we all do it sometime. For me it's a routine. For as long as I can remember my life has always been contained in a small raggedy suitcase as my mom drags us from place to place. Of all my sixteen years of life I can honestly say I've never had a place to call home.
My mother's job always took us from beaten down apartments to filthy motel rooms. Each had things in common. This one smelled like smoke. That one had molding walls. Hey remember the one with cocaine hidden in the cabinet?! None of the places we've ever stayed at have been nice. None were ever safe. None were ever appropriate for a little girl to be raised in.
With each move bought about new people…and monsters. There was Christy from the 2B who always stopped by to make sure I ate dinner when I was five. There was Old Man Chang who made sure to bring home a toy from his toy shop every Friday when I was ten. Helen from the Red Roof Inn lobby who woke me up and supplied me with a paper bag lunch every morning. Then there were the people like Jeremy who stole our rent money after mom bought him home one night when I was seven. Thomas who used to lock me in a closet while mom was gone…I was six. Hailey the crack head who took an extreme pleasure in stealing my lunch money when I was eleven. Even Jerry who obviously took an interest in watching me like a predator when I was nine.
As a little girl I used to watch, with innocence only a child could hold, as my mother left worn down and dressed in skimpy outfits and with a sultry expression and come back looking more worn down with ripped stockings, a bruise here and there, smelling of smoke. Being a kid I never understood that my mother was leaving to take apart in the shameful act of selling her body…all just to keep me off the streets. When I was eight I learned quickly that a prostitute wasn't something to look up to. It was career day at school and when I proudly stepped up to the class claiming that my mom had sex with men for money…well…it became apparent that it was looked down upon. Me being me it took a while for it to click. I stood in front of the class defending my mother's honor for a full five minutes before the teacher took me into the hallway and preached the shame of such a career. The next morning my mom pulled me out of school and we moved to Florida.
That day changed the way I looked at my mother forever. The picture of my knight in shining armor was tainted. My mother changed too. Seeing that I was no longer under the impression that she was perfect she grew hard and cold. Gone was the warmed, although strained, mom. Gone was the woman who took time to tuck me in for bed before leaving. No more kisses. No more hiding her struggle.
"No we can't afford Lucky Charms."
"I don't have the money to send you to the zoo with the class."
"I'm only doing this because no one will hire a whore."
She stopped caring. She became closed off and angry around me. It's like the love for me was drained away. Bitterness towards me became apparent.
"It's all because you were born."
"He would've loved me."
"Why can't you just grow up already?"
Without the loving blanket my mother once had placed over me I became aware of the world around me. I observed how other kids had nice clothes. I saw other kids go home to nice houses with a dog waiting for them. Hell the closest thing I had to a pet was the rat in the wall when I was four. Other kids had a dad too. Mine was never around. No name. No child support. Nothing to go by accept my exotic looks. You know the long dark hair. Pretty skin…you know like the inside of an almond. Even my dark brown eyes. Definitely far from the auburn hair and lighter brown eyes of my mother. Mom hates it.
"You're just a reminder of that bastard."
By the time I was nine she started to be gone for days. At first I panicked. I would hide under the bed crying till she would come waltzing back in with the slam of a door. After a while I guess I just understood that it was time to learn how to take care of myself. Only nine and I figured out how to learn the basics of the kitchen. I used my poorly supplied school books and the local librarian next door to put myself ahead of kids my age educationally. Instead of playing with blocks at clinics I read the pamphlets. By the age ten I was an expert on how to take care of my hung over mother. Hell I knew what an abortion was and what the workings of it were when I was 10 1/2. Can you believe that? Can you picture it?
Needless to say our relationship now isn't the best. In fact it's doesn't exist. We were living in a broken down hotel…you know the Roadway Inn? It's off the 37 going through Indianapolis…now…
"Here's fifty bucks. Go get some groceries for the month."
"Rosemarie can you tell me about what you're thinking about?"
The smooth and falsely comforting voice of my case worker breaks me out of thought. Looking up I find myself back in a small office. Forest green walls with book cases everywhere. The brown area rug with cream swirls covering the scratched up oak floors. Her desk piled neatly with papers and organized. Her… Dr. Olendzki according to the name plate in the right hand corner of the desk. Looking up I meet pale blue eyes. Her long blonde hair is pulled back into a pony tail. Her pale skin is covered by a professional looking turtle neck sweater dress, stockings, and boots. Her nails are perfect as are her teeth. Perfect…I guess. She watches me with her clipboard/notebook and pen. Her legs crossed and awaiting my answer.
"I don't want to talk." I tell her looking behind her at the window. It's raining and the clouds block out the sunlight making everything gloomy.
"You seem to have a lot on your mind though." She points out calmly. Her control makes me want to cringe. Too perfect.
"Aren't you coming in?"
"Why would I do that?"
"It's raining." I point out. I watch people dressed for cold weather pass by quickly as they try to get out of the rain.
"How does that make you feel?" She asks.
"How's that supposed to make me feel…its just rain." I tell her. It makes me feel more depressed and empty than ever.
"Well sometimes weather affects our emotions." She says as she jots something down.
"That's crazy." I tell her sitting back. She observes me and sighs.
"I want my money!"
"I can't let you out of this room until you tell me about you. I'm here to help." She says as I play with a loose thread on my red sweater.
"I don't need helping. I'm fine." I tell her. I know what help means and I want no part of it.
"I'm going to be frank Rosemarie_"
"Call me Rose. I hate my full name." I tell her.
"I'm going to be frank Rose. The state and I need to decide what kind of state of mind you're in before we decide what to do with you." She says, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward. Her eyes are genuine when I meet them. "I want to help you."
"I don't have it! My mother should be back soon and she'll pay then!"
"Give me my money or I'm calling the cops!"
"Rose…I'm just going to come straight out and ask the questions that need to be asked, because quite frankly I don't see you telling me anything on your own." She says. "Can you tell me where your mother is?"
She left.
I don't say anything. She sighs and scribbles something down.
"Do you know when she'll be back?" She asks.
Probably never. She left, didn't you get the memo?
I reply with a shrug of my shoulders.
"Where's your father?" She sighs.
How should I know?
Another shrug.
"Have you always lived in hotels?" She asks.
I wonder if she'll ever stop talking.
"Have you ever been neglected or abused?" She pushes on.
"Have you no one else?" She questions.
"Can we please stop talking?" I ask in a small voice. "I just don't want to talk."
She observes me silently and writes something down in her notebook. Getting up she makes her way behind her desk and sits down. I look back out the window. Rain falls harder and the winds blowing.
It's October. It's wet and cold. My mother left me and I have no one. She left me and now I'm in a fucking child services office awaiting my sentencing. One whole fucking day going through interrogations and sitting in rooms where people judge me on what they read in a file. One whole day, which started at noon and it's now…seven, going through the system. If I thought my life was shit before…I can't decide what it is now.
"We've looked through your file and found a will of sorts." She says flipping through pages. She pulls out an envelope. My heart skips a beat.
"Wills are for dead people." I tell her. She looks up and smiles grimly at me. "My mother's not dead."
"No but your mother did leave a back-up plan upon any point of time she couldn't care for you anymore." She continues. "It states a godparent."
"I have no one." I state flatly. I've never known anyone but my mother. No other family to speak of. My heart clenches at the thought.
"You do though Rose. "In any event that I can no longer care my daughter, Rosemarie Hathaway, or continue my parental duties, I pass all parental rights and guardianship over to a Miss Olena Belikov. She has a stable household with a daughter Rosemarie's age and three other children who have grown up. She holds great morals that will be useful in guiding my daughter threw life. As an exemplary role model I hand over my rights to Olena.' Signed Janine Hathaway."
I don't answer out of shock. All this time I've had someone that would be there for me. Someone that could really take care of me. Dr. Olendzki observes my shocked expression.
"We found out four hours ago and have run the necessary background check on Miss Belikov before contacting her. She indeed is alive and does pass all our checks. She seems eager to meet you." She says sitting down and fixing me with a stare. "She wants to take you home with her. We'll need o keep you over night before to finish paperwork while we wait for her arrival but I believe this should be good for you."
So I'm just going to cut it off there. I was going to write more but decided to stop it here to see how everyone likes it before I keep going. Dimitri and more of an explanation will show up in the next chapter! Please take two seconds to review and tell me what you think about this story and if I should continue PLEASE!