collided

willow

My eyes were fixated upwards towards the murky skies. The smog coated the air, not leaving a single trace of blue to be seen. Dust blanketed the roads which kicked up thick clouds as cars drove on by. I peered out the bus window with my hand resting under my chin, gently cupping my face as I glared outside towards the vast, empty Texan desert.

I've almost finally made it to my new home, El Paso.

Well, it wasn't really my new home. I'm just staying here for a couple months during the summer to visit my older sister, Olive.

Olive is 4 years older than me. She moved out of our hometown to study law at college in El Paso a couple years back.
It was incredibly hard on me when she left, I was heartbroken to say the least.

At home it's just been my dad, Olive and I. Our mom passed fifteen years ago now, I was 3. A head-on collision by a drunk driver while on her way back home from work. She was dead instantly. I don't like to think about a lot or talk about really. I hate the idea of being that kid that everyone feels sorry for because they lost a parent at a young age. I don't have many clear memories of her because of how young I was, only the stories I hear from my relatives and the people that loved her.

Madeleine her name was. I know she loved listening to music and making me laugh. She loved cooking and the smell of vanilla. She had long wild dark hair and huge green eyes, along with freckles that peppered her nose and cheeks. I've been told by family members I'm her double, the spitting image, almost a carbon copy.
There's no better compliment to me. She was truly beautiful.

The first few years after the accident were the most painful. My dad always seemed tired. He was too tired to get up in the mornings, too tired to go to bed at night. He was too tired to go to work and then when he lost his job, he was too tired to get another one. He just stayed at home drinking and staring into space. I felt like I lost both my parents at the same time. He was never the same after losing her - his high school sweetheart. He became distant. Cold. And as I grew older, I could tell it was painful for him to even look at me because of how much I looked like her.

It hurt. It still hurts.

Olive had to step up to take care of me, even though she was still only a child herself. She has been my ally and mentor since our mom died, so when she was accepted into the college of her dreams, I was so happy and in awe of her. Yet I couldn't help selfishly resenting the school for taking her away from me.

I grew up in a small suburb in Las Vegas, a couple miles out from The Strip. I was born and raised in Sin City. So understandably, when I tell a person that's where I grew up, I get some weird looks and some even weirder questions.

I've been surrounded by slot machines, alcohol and strip clubs my whole life. That's normal to me, it's home. And although I consider the city to be a part of the fabric of my personality, I'm painfully shy and somewhat reserved. I love nothing more than being alone in my room with my books and my music. A place where I can be myself with no anxiety or judgment. It's where I felt most a peace in this whirlwind of a city.

Yeah, of course I had my brief moments as a Vegas teen, bouncing from one hotel party to the next, sneaking into casinos at 13 or cruising the strip at 3am while blaring rock music. Yet I still managed to be a generally good kid. Me and my sister both did.
I always maintained straight A's, I didn't do drugs and I rarely smoked, despite the environment and the characters I was surrounded by.

I've never really left Vegas. I just never felt the need to. I had everything I ever wanted on my doorstep. But I'm excited to see what else is out there and potentially meet new people from different walks of life.

I'm 18 now. I've finally graduated high school and it was time for me to get out there and see the world. Even if that just means getting out and exploring the small border city of El Paso for the summer.

And today was the day I decided to board that steel Greyhound bus and head 12 hours across the country to the western tip of Texas.