Tonight was not different from any other night. I still stood on the steps with the wind blowing through my hair, thinking about the many things I missed out on in my short nineteen years of life.
Even though I grew up a young lady of privilege, it would be hard to say where the privilege was. I was born to a flighty, distracted father, and a melancholy, gullible mother. My first three years were all right. Leota hadn't come yet, and my parents were still happily in love. But that didn't last long. I can never remember being fond of the gypsy woman my father hired to help him contact my grandfather. Even at three I knew bad from good, but my father never listened. He was determined in his business and didn't want to waste his time listening to a two-year-old. And it was I who knew first what was wrong with my mother. One night, out of anger after being rejected by my father again, I expressed my feelings about Leota to my mother, and was amazed to hear that she shared a similar opinion. But what I didn't see was that Leota had been standing by the door and heard every word of our conversation.
When spring came, it was time for socializing. On my birthday, one I'll never forget, I was dressed in a new white dress, hair in ebony ringlets and blue eyes glowing. I was happy because Daddy was acting proud of me for one of the first times ever. He held me in his lap the whole time, and wouldn't let anyone else touch me.
Soon, it was time for the entertainment. To my surprise, Mother was standing on a tightrope, preparing to delight us all by performing her old act. But, then something happened that changed my life forever. When she was only halfway across, the rope unraveled, and she fell into the jaws of a waiting alligator. Well, actually, it didn't eat her right away. She managed to resurface long enough for me to see the look of stark terror on her face before the beast pulled her down again. It didn't take me long to figure out that my mommy wasn't coming back.
Later that night, Daddy called me into he and my mother's old bedroom. When I went in, Leota was standing by my mother's bed, and Daddy was holding her hand. I didn't understand at first. Then, he stepped away and I saw the bassinet behind him. He took the squirming bundle from it and said to me, "see her, Chrissy? This is Leota, your new baby sister." Big Leota grinned evilly at me after that. It was then that I understood, and did the only thing that I knew how. I cried. I cried for a long time. Day and night, my shrieks and wails filled the air.
Daddy must have gotten tired of it, or maybe Leota suggested it to him, but one day, he got me in the car and said that we were going on a trip. The building we went to was a large, cream-colored structure. The hospital. He took my hand and led me inside, giving me to a nurse. "Take good care of her, will you?" he asked her. She nodded, and he hugged me stiffly and left. Then, the nurse led me down a hallway with a sign over it that said: Psychiatric Ward. I spent three years there, and when Daddy came back for me, he brought another woman with him.
When I asked him about her, he smiled at me and said, "Chrissy, this is Emily, your new mommy.
At top: "Memory" from Cats.
