Old Money Madness

1. Drunk Narration

Socrates once said, 'I know I am intelligent because I know that I know nothing.' It's what the old dead bastards called having humility intelligence. Once you have accepted that you don't know everything, your education and learning actually start to matter. 

Well turns out he is right. I am sitting here, on my porch with degrees of the highest achievement under my name, and yet, I know nothing. 

"There I was, a young princess, sitting on the green hills of France, sipping on my sparkling-wait what the fuck is that drink called?-whatever, with a long flowing dress. The songbirds were singing while I twirled my long golden hair-"

"Miss, are you doing okay?"

"What?"

"Miss, it's nine in the morning."

"Look at you Daisy with the facts." I laughed clutching an empty vodka bottle to my chest.

"Well, you are in last night's shirt, your hair needs a wash, and you're drunk again. Miss."

"You're too sharp for your own good Daisy."

"Lastly, your sister told me that I should be worried when you start narrating a life in France, again."

"Which sister?"

"Eldest Miss."

"I see. Well, I smell like a dive bar, so I should wash up before we head down to the sheriff's office."

"We Miss?"

"Well, I don't have parents anymore, and all four of my siblings are AWOL, even the eldest who told you 'It's worrisome when she narrates'. She's such a stuck-up prick. She made it to the big city, which doesn't make her better than me."

"Miss, let's not get mad. Come on, I've drawn a bath."

"Lead the way Daisy." I take a deep breath and toss the empty bottle over the railing.

"I've decided to make up the master bath. Soaps are on the table, and I've made up a sandwich for you. Miss, try your best not to drop the food in the bathwater."

"Sure Daisy."

I tossed off my drenched white button-up dress shirt that I had tied into a crop top from the night before. After I lost my jean shorts I slid into the warm bathwater.

"The beautiful princess rinses her skin from her time outside. Polishing her hair to make it shine under the sunlight. With soap and bubbles, she will return to her regal glory shortly."

"Miss, please no more narration. You narrate the drunker you are, and that won't look good to the sheriff." Daisy knocked on the bathroom door.

"Fine Daisy, kill my imagination."

"My apologies Miss."

I rushed to finish my bath. Towel dried my hair and put on an old t-shirt from my college and some more jean shorts. Daisy was waiting in her normal black and white dress with a sweater in hand and a water bottle. I hopped on the stair railing and slid down the flight of twisting stairs in no time.

"Miss, I know this is your house now, but you remember how your mother didn't like it when you did that."

"I really don't want to hear it right now Daisy. We are on our way to the sheriff's office, none of my siblings bothered to come home, and I am still hungover."

"Miss, you've been hungover for seven years."

"Shut up. Meet me in the car in ten minutes." I grumbled. She's helpful, but I hate the nagging.