Born in the city of Detroit, Asia Adams always had the worst luck. Everything about her life always seemed to be unfortunate. Even when she's forced to move to New York, her bad luck trailed behind her. Things start to change for a while when she me...
I sat on the fire escape and listen to muffled arguments from the kitchen. I wondered if it was ever gonna get better. If things were ever gonna change.
I knew it wasn't.
It's been twelve years. My parents aren't married. I don't understand why they didn't just move away from each other.
I can't tell you how many times I've used that lie on me. I know exactly why they don't just leave each other.
And it's all my fault.
And I don't want your pity. I'm not trying to blame it on myself and act all sad. Deep down, I don't think it is my fault, aside from the countless times my parents told me it was my fault. But I didn't ask to be born. I didn't ask to put my parents in debt.
That's on them.
I continued daydreaming and watching the stars until I heard a loud boom. I jumped up and quickly opened my window. I crawled inside and closed the curtains.
I hated living here. Detroit isn't an ugly city. It's gorgeous. Just the part where I live is ugly. The buildings are ugly, the people are ugly, the streets are ugly, all of it.
I've been shot in the arm twice, shot in the leg once and stabbed by one of my dads four times at once. It's a bad place to be. I'm way too young to have to worry about being shot or stabbed.
But in all honesty, is anyone really old enough for it?
I've always been pretty self aware. But when I get kicked out, it's always the middle of the night and there's nothing I can do about it.
Thank God tonight isn't one of those nights. Hearing that gun shot really freaked me out.
I decided to go to bed and get some rest. I wonder what I'm gonna do tomorrow. I didn't feel like showing up to school. Never cared for it. I don't plan to live past 18, anyway. Maybe it's a pessimistic view on life, but it's true. Detroit is a bad place.
I woke up to arguing from the kitchen. Again? Really? My mom only picks fights at night after her afternoon of drinking. Even sober she'd probably pick a fight, but I've never heard one in the morning.
I put my ear to the door and she actually did sound sober. It was shocking. I rarely ever hear my mom sober. Not hungover or drunk. She slurs her words when she's had a drink in the past twelve hours. But she sounded... normal.
"I'm done arguing about this. You wanna leave, you take her with you."
What is she talking about? Is she talking about dads other woman? We all know he has one, even if he won't admit it. He constantly comes home with lipstick on his cheek and smells like cherry blossom perfume.
"If you want her to come with me, she better be ready by tonight at five. Jesus Christ, I'm not missing my train for her."
"Asia!" Mom yelled.
It startled me. Were they talking about me? I replayed the conversation between them to try and figure out what they were talking about. Nothing made sense in the heat of the moment.
I thought for so long to that the door I was leaning against flew open.
"What the hell are you doing?" Mom asked.
"I-I was just walking out," I muttered, "y'know, to see what you wanted."
"Get your shit together." She said walking past me.
"Huh?" I asked.
I saw dad in the kitchen and it looked like he was contemplating his entire life. It almost made me laugh at how miserable he looked from just listening to mom. I quickly frowned again once I realized this is my life.
Mom grabbed my backpack from the corner of my room and opened my drawers, throwing as much of my clothes as she could into the small bag.
"Get a suitcase from the closet." She demanded.
"What's going on?" I asked, listening to her instructions.
"You and I are moving." Dad said from behind me.
"R-Really? I- I didn't expect that. Where's the new apartment?" I asked, hoping it was in a better part of Detroit. Or maybe somewhere a bit up north more, just out of Detroit. Like a nice, small city.
"New York."
I audibly gasped. "What? Like- New York, as in the state? We're leaving Michigan?" I asked, quickly.
"The only New York there is in America." Dad said, rolling his eyes. "I wanted to leave you here, but your mother insisted. We're leaving the house at 4:30. The train leaves at 5."
Dad walked away and slammed the door behind him. I was frozen in place. I was moving out of Michigan?
But Detroit is all I've ever known!
I never liked it, but I can't leave!
I hoped it wasn't New York City, but with my luck and the amount of money we have, I'm sure it'll be in some shitty part of New York. Probably just as bad as where I am now.
I can't wait till I'm old enough to leave. I want to be 18. I don't wanna be a kid anymore. Then I would have to deal with the pain of being unwanted. The pain of having people fight over who is forced to deal with you.
Six years.
It's a long time.
But I've survived this long. Twelve years is a long time when you put it into perspective.
I may not be old enough to go out on my own, but I'm gonna start over in New York. I'm gonna make new friends, go to school, become more confident, stop getting in trouble, and live the life I've always wanted.
Well, at least the best I can.
I guess moving to New York isn't ideal, but I can make something of it to the best I can.
I can start over. By the time I get to high school, I'm gonna be confident. I'm gonna be a badass who everybody knows. I want to be more normal.
All I know is even if I'm unwanted around home, I'm gonna be wanted around everywhere else.
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