Author: Ally
E-mail: Insanechica14@aol.com
Rating: PG-13 (Drugs, violence)
"Life has a funny way of dictating forever." I remember reading that somewhere once, and it's true. Life does have a funny way of giving you unexpected twists and turns. My life... Yeah, I had big plans. I was going to be a reporter, like my mom. I was going to be famous, rich, everything I had always wanted... And yet it never happened. I ended up being exactly what I didn't want to be.
I had a messed up childhood. My mom was a drug addict, a whore... Basically everything that you would expect from a kid who grew up on the streets. But Mom had grown up in a loving home, a great community, and an amazing school. My dad wasn't around much. He left due to my mother. I was raised by four of my "Aunts" who were really my parent's friends. Mom shut out my maternal grandparents.
I know that I can't blame my life on my parents. My jackass of a psychiatrist loves to tell me that. But it did affect me, didn't it? I watched as my mom used crack, heroin, marijuana, hell, anything that would give her a high. I watched as she slept around, as she schemed and manipulated her life. God, did I hate her. I still curse at her for my life.
She committed suicide one night, right after my dad visited. I stayed with him for two weeks before he shipped me off to Miami. I stayed there for a few months, before heading back to Dallas. After Texas, there was Seattle. After Seattle, Chicago. It was a long time before I came back to Boston.
And now, here I am, sitting on the steps of the townhouse my mom and I lived in. The money the people possess is obvious. Mercedes and Lexus cars line the street, the lawns perfectly kept, and each of the houses is in immaculate condition. Not a far cry from when we lived here.
And now I'm saying goodbye to my past. Goodbye to my mother's past. The coffee I had is now helping the grass grow, and I get up and lock the door. I give a signal, and the moving van pulls away. Now I, Cordelia Juliet Gilmore, can bury the past. Looking down the street, I hear the wind picking up, and the clouds suddenly seem to burst open. Walking down the street in the rain, I give one last look to my childhood home, and disappear into the crowd, becoming nothing more than... Me.
