Author's Note: So this story is not just a Fifty Shades of Grey story, It's my life story Well so far I've had a very interesting childhood and thought it would make an interesting story. No it is not lust worthy like FSOG but it's raw and real. Welcome to the dark side...
The day I was born there was an awful thunderstorm, and that storm set the tone to the rest of my life... Now before we move on to the past, you need to know a little bit of the future, as it foreshadows what is to come... I'm not a happy person, yes we all have bad days but when they have all turned bad and you look back as to what had just happened in the past and find it to be affecting your ability to move on, then you have a problem. Just to clarify I'm not a trust fund baby...anymore.
7 years ago...(age seventeen)
I come from a wealthy background but I never felt like I fit in when I was with my family which is just my mother, my father, and me...oh and the 10 nannies by age 12. When I was 6, I asked the doctors and my parents if I was adopted and the answer was no, which I kinda hoped was true because then I wasn't technically related to these people, unfortunately, I wasn't and I was stuck with them until my 21st birthday, that's when I get my trust fund...Also a common mistake is that even though I grew up wearing designer diapers, doesn't mean they were MY designer diapers which is a fact my parents constantly remind me of. My father, Carrick (fondly known as Rick) always says, "Just because we are privileged, doesn't mean YOU are". Wonderful pep talk Dad. My mom, Grace, agrees with this way of thinking and always reminds me that when she dies, all her money is being donated to her favorite museum in Paris, France. But this doesn't do my parents justice... yes they were voted most philanthropic in the Society pages but when you get them home, they are two of the most selfish and calculating people on the face of the Earth. My parents are the two of the top litigators in NYC. (PS litigator is a fancy way of saying lawyer, I learned this the hard way when I was five duirng Thanksgiving dinner...) Oh by the way, my name is Anastasia, but everyone calls me Ana, except my parents because they say it's classless. I'm seventeen, and I am a bit of a free spirit. Let's just say I have a lot of "friends" and when I'm late for curfew we're not out watching The Notebook...I knew every type of liquor by the 7th grade, and I started trying them all by 8th, my parents were too wrapped up in their money to notice, looking back it was probably a stupid attempt at a cry for help before things took a turn for the worst.
I never supported my parents wealth. Even though I was and probably still am I, the best dressed person on the Upper East Side, I don't brag about it. My mom brags whenever she buys a new Prada bag. For 8th grade graduation, my mom insisted to buy me a one of a kind Versace dress that had to be altered so much it wasn't even worth a dollar, yet 10,000. Then when I fell flat on my face during the graduation ceremony because of the 4 inch matching heels my mom threatened me to wear, she was more concerned about the huge rip in the dress then the scar on my chin that needed two stitches. Wealth does strange things to people and it changes them for the worst. For example, the fact that my father goes to his annual "business" trip to St. Barts every year without my mother, now I understand not taking me but not my mom?!. No instead he takes his 22 year old assistant/"girlfriend", this is knowledge that I only know! If my mother knew, she would need something stronger than Xanax and she pops those things like tic tacs. The only reason I know this is because I have a private investigator on speed dial, one of the only perks of having connections. Another thing about having money it's easier to keep secrets until your dead just like my mother's favorite museum, remember the one she's donating her money to when she's dead?!, well it's owned by her ex-boyfriend whom she left in order to marry my father, at 20 years old, right before her career took off...Makes you wonder right?!
When I got to high school,my parents enrolled me in a fancy private school and hard liquor had became my only outlet, but I did make a friend who understood my hatred of my parents wealth and my desire/need to rebel , her name was Kate (Katherine but if you call her that she will punch you in the face). Her parents owned some fortune 500 company, that if I mentioned I would probably get sued. She and I would skip 6th period gym in order to get hammered at the local bar that my ex boyfriend, Jose, worked at. Eventually we got caught, but I blackmailed everyone I had to in order for my parents and Kate's to never find out. Up until recently, we still went to that bar, but shit happens...
The loneliness is palpable. Yes I live in a huge penthouse that more like a palace then a home but I never feel more alone then at "family dinner" as in the dinner that the chef, who was flown from Italy, prepared. And my parents only sat and ate with me as long as all their briefs were finished and they weren't defending the big bad oil company's. When they did have the time, it consisted of then criticizing my appearance or the one B that I have in Latin, why do we need to know Latin, it's a dead language...Which is just how I feel.