The Burton Apartment
Melissa's Room
February 19th
11.00 PM

She looked at the white breaking ceiling,as she laid her head on the white Ikea-clad cushion. What had this world come to? Her life was based on lie, lies and only lies. All her life had been a big fat lie. Who was she? She did not know.

Her name was not Melissa Burton, her name was Massie Block. She was not born in Louisiana. She was born in freaking Paris. Her father had not died in a car crash in Los Angeles, and his name was definitely not Trevor Burton. Her father was healthy and alive living in New York City, in the Upper East Side. He was one of the richest men in America.

How did she find out the truth? Certainly not from her mother herself. That liar. Worse mother of the year. Where did she work? In freaking Burger King. How many hours a day was she at home? Roughly around two or three hours maximum. She spent most of the nights with different men. Who knew what kind of diseases she had.

She had to learn how to take care of her self when she was just ten, she learned how to cook pasta when she was nine, all of that with the help of the neighbour's Internet, since they did not have connection at home. Or a computer.

She had to find out as she looked through her mother's stuff as she searched for some cash to buy some freaking food. Sealed inside a brown recycled folder, addressed to Kendall Burton, all files with the whole truth about her life. Her real date of birth. Her real name. Her birth place. Everything. What would have happened if she hadn't considered the folder? She would probably still be living a lie.

Now she was starving, unsure on what to do, and very confused. Her phone rang. A very old phone she had found by her neighbour's trash. Mother. The called ID read.

Pick up? Or not. Pick up? fuck this.

"H-Hello?" Melissa/Massie managed to say, feeling uncertain on what she had to do. Play dumb or just confront her?

"Melissa. I'm coming home with an old friend, go sleep to your friends house" Before she gave her a chance to reply she immediately snapped. "Right. You don't have any friends. Then when I get home turn up some music from the radio, and hide until I knock on your door alright?

"Ew. Forget it. I'll go out" Melissa/Massie replied disgusted. Why did her mother have to be so.. disgusting? She hung up. It was eleven o'clock. What could she do? One thing her mother said was true. She did not have any friends. Mostly because she had such big responsibilities since she was just a child, and had matured way faster than people in her grade. And parts of her just didn't want to have any friends. She felt like there was no need.

After all friends were never forever. They come and go as time passed. Massielooked at herself in the mirror. She was wearing an Abercrombiewhite shirt with a pair of light jeans. She threw on a heavy NYU hoodie, and grabbed her wallet with just a few dollars inside.

She opened the door, and got out of the small two-room apartment she lived in with her mother, hoping to not catch her mother and her one night stand on the way.

What could she do in Miami on a Wednesday night? Well, she could go clubbing, but that was so not her style. She was more of a relaxed girl. She liked normality. She was not a party animal.

The neighbours did not seem to be around. And she had the spare keys they trusted her with. She was dying to go on the Internet, and she sometimes went in the house without permission, so why not now?

She opened the door, and as expected her neighbours were not around, she remembered that they told her they were going to Orlando for a few days. She turned on the computer, opened the refrigerator, and got some fresh water out. She then looked through the shelves and took a box of noodles, heated up some water, and poured it on the noodle cup and brought it in front of the computer.

She clicked on the Internet Explorer icon, immediately opening a window with the homepage of . She typed , and tried to type out the name of her father. William Block. Exactly 25,100,000 results came out.

Wikipedia.

William Astor Block (born November 19, 1960) is an American heir, publisher,and owner of lots of buildings throughout Manhattan, Beverly Hills, and all over Europe.

William Block was born in New York, New York,in November 19Th 1960 as the third of four children of Nicholson Block(who was born to Block Publishing founder Archibald Block) and Jacqueline Fuller.

In 1978, William graduated from Brown University where the rest of the family also attended. His brothers and sisters are Elizabeth Jemima Block (born 1965); Stephen Jeffrey Clement-Block(born 1980); Christine Olympia Clement-Block (born 1986). The fortune of their father, Nicholson Block (born , is currently valued at $6.4 Billion.

William Block is currently chairman of Block Publishing, the most successful publishing company since 1930. William Block's net worth is estimated to be valued at around 500 Million.

500 Million dollars. Crazy. How did that cheap whore of a mother manage to bag a millionaire, who was also handsome at the same time? Knowing her, she probably did so for money.

She heard moaning noises from the side of her house. Poor neighbours. They had to live with her mother's shit for all their lives. How could they managed to survive throughout all these years?

Massie had enough. No more slutty mother. No more living alone, being so responsible for the first time in her whole teenage-hood. She had to leave. She had to get away from this hellhole.

She typed , and saw the blue layout pop up.

Book Flights. Round-trip. One Way. If she was going to leave, it had to be for good. She clicked slowly the one way button. From, Miami International Airport to JFK airport. Departure date? 20th of February. Click. Results. MIA-07.25 AM JFK- 10.35 AM. Price. $459.

Massie's legstarted shaking with nervousness. She knew where her neighbours kept their credit cards. On the first drawer of the computer desk. The on line shopping card, they called it. If she used it, they would never trust her again. If she didn't... Well, she was going to die mentally.

She opened the drawer, and put the information needed. Typed the card number, type and everything under the name of her neighbour. As she did that, she got a pink post-it, and a BIC biro pen, and wrote in a nice handwriting an excuse.

Dearest Jane and John.
Pardon me for taking advantage
of your generosity.
I did not mean to do so.
I need to get away,
i am having personal problems,
and I really need to start again.
Please, don't freak out when you see
the $450 on your bill.
I promise I will repay every single cent
as soon as possible.

With Love,
Melissa Burton.

Massie stuck it on the computer's screen, and turned it off. She snuck inside her house, and saw her mother's purse laying on the couch. She checked the wallet, and grabbed a few twenties, and then headed to her room, carefully tip-toeing. She grabbed a backpack and threw in some clothes and underwear for the few days she was going to figure out what was going on next.

She glared at her cellular phone, unsure if she was going to bring it or not, but then decided to leave it home. She wrote her mother a note, looked one last time around the house, and walked out, ready to leave the past behind her.

Mother,
Thanks for lying to me
for all these years.
I can't live with you anymore.
I am going to my father's.
Don't look for me.
It will be useless.
I don't want to see you anymore anyway.
Love, Massie.

Bye Bye, Miami. Hello, New York.

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