I have lived a life of loneliness. Of darkness. My mom and dad wanted nothing to do with me except for me to be there little slave girl. But, my father didn't even want that. He didn't want a child with "problems" so he left me and mom when I was three. I didn't have problems I was just different, special, as I like to call it. Still nobody wanted me or cared for me. My mother wanted me only to work for her, if that wasn't an option then I would be preparing to leave for an insane asylum. But my mother refused to put me in one when I was younger, so my dad left. My mom still throws that in my face,"If it wasn't for you I would still have a husband." I stay away from her as much as I can
At 14 I had a job and was learning to drive. Paying for my own drivers education classes and everything. At 16 I bought a car, got a more productive job and took theater and dance classes inside and out of school so I could be away from home as much as possible. During the summers I either went to camp, worked at camp, or taught dance to little kids. I was good at it. I had been doing dance since I was younger and as a result was a very graceful human.
I have visions of the future. Not always though. Only sometimes usually when something really important was about to happen. My first glimpse of the future was when I was three, I had seen my dad leaving. At the time I didn't know that it was my fault that he left but even now that I do I don't care.
I leaned over my overly small bed and grabbed my suitcase out from under it. I was packing to leave. Tomorrow was my eighteenth birthday and so I was moving out. I would be a legal adult. I had gas money for the road. I needed away from my mother and I needed to go to college. I had won a one-hundred percent free ride to collage scholarship with dance. I hadn't even told my mom I was leaving. Even through my mother being horribly rude to me I was still a naturally fun bubbly person. I was also very pretty and lively, guys stalked me down the school halls on most days. I was smart and all that jazz but I just felt like something in my life was missing. Like there was another half of me that wasn't there.
"Marie Alice Brandon come down here this instant!" My mother shouted breaking my concentration. I looked at the duffel before me and sighed. It was still empty. I found the door and walked down the flight of stairs that led to the living room.
"Yes mom?" I asked politely. My mom might not be my favorite person on earth but I respected my elders.
"Clean up the kitchen and start some fettuccine Alfredo for dinner we are having guests!" She commanded. I sighed but still followed her commands. I went upstairs and grabbed my iPod out of its place in the dock then came downstairs. while I cleaned and cooked dinner I listened to swan lake and Beethoven and other classics. they were my favorite. Along the way I unwillingly made up dance moves.
After that I didn't even eat. I was too engulfed in my thoughts to eat anyway. I went upstairs and started packing. I through in my blue jean skirt my favorite pair of jeans. Three shirts. A jacket, a few more pairs of jeans, my iPod dock, my iPod charger, some socks and underwear, and my bathing suit just in case. Then I sat down on my bed and prepared to write a letter to my mom.
Dear Anna Marie Brandon,
I love you. Even though you haven't been a very good mother to my you are still my mom.
I love you with my heart but I can't stay here anymore.
I have to get out of this house. Away from this life. I'm just a kid eighteen or not and I need
to be able to live like a kid. I need a life and the only way I see myself getting one is my moving
out as soon as possible. I have money and a good car. I will make it through. I'm going
to college on a scholarship. Don't worry about me. i love you. Maybe someday I will come back.
your daughter,
Marie Alice Brandon..
By the end of the letter I was crying. I was not a mean person. I was a happy person. A lively girl with a great life ahead of her but not behind her. But even though I would miss this life I needed away from it. I checked my alarm clock. It read 12:00 am. It was my birthday. I was eighteen. I got up from my desk and walked over to my daybed. I fixed it up and made it look good. Then walked over and straightened my rug and my other belongings. Then I put the note in a pink flowery envelope, addressed it to my mother and placed it on the edge of my bed.
I took one more good look at my room the picked up my car keys and duffel bag and turned the light out. I walked silently through the house to the front door. I walked out it and locked it behind me then turned and walked down the garden path, got in my car, and drove off, without a backwards glance.
