1; don't tell me it's my fault

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THE BEGINNING

Everybody likes to be something they're not. It's the trouble with our world, really. All the glitz and glamor of the 80s' isn't truly my scene - but more of a sad excuse to get high and act as if the world doesn't matter, well in my sister's eyes anyway.

If you insist on knowing, she basically raised me. I love my parents - but they weren't around when I was a kid and they sure as hell aren't around now. They were the kind of parents that never hugged me, never showed or gave any love of any shape or form. I like to think that maybe they are the reason I refuse to show emotion.

If anything good came out of my childhood, it would be the way my parents read to me. You know, the one week out of the year they were in town. Each week each year would be a new book, some of the most notable consisting of The Great Gatsby and The Catcher in the Rye. They like to credit my sister's behavior to Daisy Buchanan because she is in love with the idea of money, ease, and material luxury. As for me, they like to say that I am the embodiment of Holden Caufield - who in my opinion, is simply misunderstood.

Anyway, my sister Carmen, Carm for short, is the reason I'm still in this city of Gainseville, Florida. It's truly wretched living here except during the month of April - as colorful blooms of azaleas and redbud complement a usual cloudless blue sky. But, unfortunately, it's October. October 16, 1989, to be exact.

The whole reason we even live here is because my sister ran out of her wedding. True story, by the way. She had just turned 22 and had been with her high school sweetheart for what seemed like forever, well until she became a runaway bride. Boy, was everyone upset. My parents even came down and help pay for practically everything. You could probably guess that they virtually disowned her after that.

Carm hates talking about that night. I'm guessing it's because she had abandoned the life she used to live. One she calls now "an imprisonment of the century."

As much as I love Carm, I envy her. She has the type of elusive beauty you only see in the movies. She had long blonde hair that she always burned straight every morning. She looked over me - catching me in the midst of my gaze.

"God, lil sis. You've got a real staring problem. It's creepy," she spoke quickly as she tied her hair into a ponytail. She was getting ready to go out on her 7th date of the week. While, for me, I was getting ready to go to work.

I have been working at THE HARDBACK CAFE for 3 years now. When we first moved here, Carm secured me the job when she strutted in the establishment with a tube top and stone-washed jeans. And when I say that I mean she slept with the manager. Ever since then, I work there 5 days a week as a waitress.

I stumbled into work with my disheveled hair and unkempt apron that was way too big for me. The cafe was packed tonight, not sure why, but frankly, I couldn't care less. This job was practically a chore for me now, and if I wanted to continue living with the freak I call my sister, I had to start pulling my weight.

"Ah, it wouldn't be a night at the Hardback without Amoreena running late with two different colored socks," my friend, Asher joked. He was the bartender of this whole joint. He was the kind of guy who always wore a black leather jacket with some ripped jeans. Not to mention, he made some pretty rad drinks to forget your troubles. Anyone and everyone loved him. All the regulars come for him and only him.

"Are you the sock police now?" I asked as I kneaded my eyebrows together. I looked up at the dark silhouette of his face. He let out a small chuckle as he looked down onto his next alcohol concoction. He had a type of beauty to him that made all girls be immediately enamored within the second of meeting him.

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