Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist, or Conversations with my 13 year old self by Pink.
Conversations with my 13 year old self
Conversations with my 13 year old self
You're angry, I know this
The world couldn't care less
You're lonely, I feel this
And you wish you were the best
Grace sat at home on her couch, one cold, raining winter night; just think about when she was a kid.
Meghan walked in to the house drunk again, like always.
"Mum, please stop drinking"
Meghan grabbed her youngest daughter by the shoulders and pushed her against the wall.
"And why the hell would I do that? You don't know how hard my life is! I won't be told what to do by my own screw up of a daughter"
Grace let some stray tears fall down her cheeks and received a stinging slap across her face from her mother.
"Please mum, I love you, but I hate to see you drunk all the time. You're gonna get sick!"
"Stop crying, you piece of crap. Crying doesn't solve anything. Go play with your shitty little friends alright? Get out of my house"
"None of my friends like me anymore because of you! You don't even care that I'm top of my class this year, do you?"
Meghan just laughed in her daughter's face, downing the rest of the beer bottle before breaking it over her daughter head.
No teachers or guidance
You always walk alone
You're crying at night when nobody else is home
Come here and let me hold your hand and hug you darling
I promise you that it won't always feel this bad
Grace wiped away tears as she remember what happened the next night, after her mother left to get some more liquor from the service station.
Grace lay in bed crying, like she did every night, her own mother treated her like shit, because her dad had left when he found out her mother was an alcoholic. Grace lost all of her friends because her mother was a drunk, she lost everything because of her deadbeat of a mother. As she lay crying that night, thinking about running away, but she thought about that every night. She couldn't do it; no matter how bad her mother treated her - she still loved her, and if she left who would be there when her mother passed out on the kitchen floor?
There are so many things I want to say to you
You're the girl I used to be
You little heartbroken 13 year old me
She used to sit at school with her "Friends", eating her cafeteria lunch on the grass. She laughed with them, but it was hollow and fake. She wants to believe that one day she'll be able to laugh and feel real happiness, but for some reason she just never thinks it will happen.
You're laughing, but you're hiding
God I know that trick too well
You forget, that I've been you
And now I'm just a shell
I promise you I love you
Everything will work out fine
Grace remembered a night, when her mother was actually home and sober.
She was sitting in her room doing her biology homework, when Meghan walked in.
"Hey Gracey, come downstairs, let's watch a movie together"
Grace got up and followed her mother downstairs and in to the living room. They watched the move "The Princess Bride". Grace laughed at the funny parts, along with her mother. She had enjoyed that night, but hid her true feelings, especially when the movie ended and Meghan kissed her on the cheek.
"I'm going to the bar" she said, standing up abruptly.
"Please don't, mum" Grace begged.
"I watched a movie with you, and now I am going to the bar. You understand?" Her mother growled down at her.
Grace nodded and turned her head away, so her mother couldn't see her rolling tears.
Grace rubbed her eyes. "Everything's turned out fine. I have a good job and friends. All without her help" she thought to herself.
Don't try to grow up yet. Oh just give it some time
The pain you feel is real you're not asleep but it's a nightmare
But you can wake up anytime
Don't lose your passion or the fighter that's inside you
You're the girl I used to be
Every day for 2 weeks, young Grace never lost her passion or stopped fighting to try to get her mother to sober up.
"Mum, please stop drinking….I beg you. I love you too much"
Meghan was drunk and threw her daughter to the ground. Grace whimpered in pain, too afraid to scream, too worn out to cry.
"If you love me, Grace, you'll leave me alone and let me drink. You ungrateful little bitch"
Her mother had never called her that before. That was the night that Olivia lost her passion and the fighter in her disappeared.
The pissed off complicated 13 year old me
Conversations with my 13 year old self
Conversations with my 13 year old self
Grace didn't care anymore. One morning when she was 18, she ran. She hopped on the first train out of Iowa, not really caring where she ended up. She found herself in Sacramento, California. She had just enough money to get a cheap motel room, and somehow she joined the police force. She bought a cozy apartment not far from the station, and quickly advanced in a career she soon discovered that she loved.
Her fight slowly grew back, as did her will to help people who needed it. However she never went back to her mother, and doesn't give a rats ass what happened to her.
She became "Agent Grace Van Pelt, California Bureau of Investigation" and started to really laugh. She laughed at the crazy man that was their consultant, she laughed at the goofiness of her partner – Wayne Rigsby, and she just laughed for the hell of it. It was a real laugh, no longer hollow, no longer fake.
Until we meet again, oh I wish you well
Oh I wish you well, little girl until we meet again
Oh I wish you well, little girl
I wish you well until we meet again
My little 13 year old me
Grace wiped away her tears and promised herself that it would be the last time that her mother would cause her tears. She ran her fingertips over the scar on the top of her skull from the beer bottle, before shaking her head and getting up from the couch.
"God, I had a shitty childhood… Screw it, I'm going to work"
She got up grabbed her mobile phone, keys and purple coat and walked out the door.
No more memories of her sad, lonely childhood tonight. Nope, just paperwork, coffee, and an iPod in her ears.