Things To Know: If the character appears in One Tree Hill, I don't own them. Any sort of review is appreciated. This chapter won't have a lot of Tree Hill character, but following chapters will, I promise.
As I walked up to the front door of our house, if that's what you can call this place I call home, I could smell it. Hell, the whole neighborhood could probably smell it, but could the police smell it? It would seem not for they've never shown up here. For some reason the police never seemed to notice the distinct smells coming from here or the constant flow of people entering and leaving this place who were only here for one thing, drugs. Somehow the place where I'm supposed to feel safe and secure had become the hot spot for the buying and selling of drugs, and not just that, but also the cooking of these drugs too. Yeah, this is the life a fifteen year old should be living. Yeah right! And it's all thanks to my mother, Nikki Turner.
As I walk in, I notice it's unusually quiet, guess they're not cooking drugs or buying and selling them today. As I make my way to my room I peak into the living room; surprise, surprise, my mother and her latest druggie boyfriend are passed out in there. I quickly and quietly hurry up to my room, not wanting to wake them up because that wouldn't be too good, although they're probably so passed from the drugs that I could probably make all the noise in the world and they would wake up.
When I get to the door to my room I pull out the key. I put a lock on my door years ago. Not because I was afraid of what would happen in the night if I didn't have a lock on there, that's the one decent thing my mother has done, made sure that none of her boyfriends ever laid a hand on me. No, the reason I put a lock on my door is that my room is my sanctuary, the one place in this rat hole of a house that is not influenced my drugs and I want to keep it that way, so I lock out all that bad stuff.
Inside my room I can express the real me and my two great loves; art, especially drawing, and basketball. For whatever reason my mother refuses to support my love for these two things, she won't tell me why and every time I ask she just say, "Why do you want to do those things, Jennifer, when there's so much more to life?" Yeah, like doing drugs with whoever and whenever, right Mother? That's what you consider more to life. There's more to the story than what she's telling me, but I don't usually push the issue.
When I'm in my room I also think and wonder, all the what ifs come to mind. What if mom hadn't gotten involved in drugs, what if she and my father stayed together, all the what ifs and no answer. My father is another sore subject for my mom. The first time I asked about him when I was eight, she said that when he found out she was pregnant he left her. When I was twelve she said he was some guy who didn't believe she should be taking drugs so when she found out she was pregnant she decided to punish him by leaving him and not telling him about me. When I was thirteen, my father was some one-night stand. Now when I ask, it's back to the story of how he was some druggie who left when he found out she was pregnant. Again there's more to this story but I don't push the issue. I'm not even sure my mother was taking drugs when she was pregnant with me, even though she claims she did, because when I was born wasn't dependent on any drugs and I wasn't born with fetal alcohol syndrome, although she claims she drank too.
Most people are shocked I even go to school, with who my mother is and all. But I don't want to become her. I want to become educated and escape the life my mother created all around me. While high school graduation is still a few year off, at least I can get my license soon.
At least then I could drive away from this life, if even for a short period of time. All I need is my birth certificate and my mother to sign something and I can get my license. Getting my mother to sign whatever will be fairly easy, especially if I ask her to sign whatever when she's slightly drugged out or taking drugs at the time because she would do whatever I asked her to do if it meant I would then get out of her way and let her get back to her drugs. The birth certificate may be a little more complicated, being that I've never seen mine so I'm not sure where exactly it is, but I have a fairly good idea.
I creep back down the stairs, still quiet, that's good news. I peek back into the living room, yup, still passed out. I then proceed into my mother and her boyfriend at the time's bedroom. In the back of the closet there is a security box. I quietly remove it from the closet and set it on the floor of her room. Next step is putting in the combination; I've seen my mother put it in a million times, 00-00-00. Come on Mother, couldn't you have come up with a more complicated combination? As I open it up I see an envelope that says Bunny's College Fund. God I hate that nickname, but that doesn't stop me from looking into the envelope. When I open the envelope I'm shocked to see that there is a lot of money in there, yes most of it is crisp one dollar bills, but there is still a lot of money in there. Under the envelope there's some pictures but I don't really take the time to look at them, who know how long I have to find this birth certificate if it's even in there. Then I find it, my birth certificate, but wait, it doesn't say Jennifer Nicole Turner like it's supposed to; it says Jennifer Nicole Jagielski. But it has the right birthday and it has Nicole Turner for the mother.
What the hell is going on?
Should I continue? Please read and review, if there is interest shown I'll continue.