In A Home, In A Heart Beat [Ruby Da Cherry // $uicideboy$]

All Things New

"Behold, I am making all things new"
Revelation 12:5

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I kept tossing and turning, eyes shut tightly, but it was useless. One of the worst kinds of hell is knowing you need sleep, you want sleep, but your mind won't let you.  Nothing made me comfortable tonight, not even my trusted Penjamin Franklin could lull me to sleep. Normally 2 pulls on the blicky would have me out like a light - but not tonight. With my anxiety at an all time high, I keep thinking about what tomorrow would bring. And I keep thinking about my past, what I had to leave behind and why. 

My future was so scary and uncertain. A new home in a new state, a new school, a new life. So much change happening so quickly with very little time to process it all. And  no room to breathe.
My first day at my new school - new high school- I'm a Junior, and unfortunately had to move in the middle of the school year to New Orleans, I'll be joining my classmates at the start of 2nd semester after Winter Break, I don't expect this transition to be easy. In fact, I'm pretty sure I know how this will go. With anxiety as bad as mine it is very difficult for me to make friends much less deep connections. I can't remember the last time I called someone my "best friend" or even just "friend".
I let out an exasperated sigh and check the time on my phone. 1:03 am. I've got my alarm set for 5:00 am. This gives me just enough time to shower, prep myself and be out the door by 6:15am to be at the bus stop by 6:25am. I thought to myself, If I had a license and my own vehicle I could sleep in a lot longer, as school doesn't even start til 8:00 am. Being low income has mostly disadvantages, this is definitely one of them.
I've been egregiously bullied in the past by my peers for being poor, and as much as I've tried to hide this fact from others, poverty has a certain look, a certain demeanor, even a certain smell.
"Your clothes smell, you stink like cigarettes!" A girl in my 4th grade class loudly exclaimed, loud enough for everyone at the lunch table to hear, several of them turned to look right at me. She didn't have to say my name for them to know it was me she was talking to. To everyone I was the poor girl.

The girl crinkled her nose with disgust, a couple others had a soft look of pity, but most of my classmates at the table covered their mouths slightly and  giggled. It was humorous to them. It was funny to them that I came to school smelling like cigarettes. My struggle was funny to them.

That hurt.
I hated the fact my clothes smelled like smoke. Even other kids whose parents smoked didn't smell like smoke, but my mom smoked cigarettes in the house, so of course the smell permeates everything and clings to clothing, no matter how "clean" they may be.
With this memory fresh in my mind, I got up from my bed to check on my outfit that I'd picked out for tomorrow. I opened my closet and removed a hanger that had my top and pants - both covered by a plastic trash bag to keep the smoke smell from transferring to the clothes - a little trick I had taught myself. Learn, adapt, overcome. Keep the clothes covered until I have to put them on.
I pulled back the opening at the top of the hanger and gave the clothes a quick sniff - yes, still downy fresh, I thought to myself before plopping back down in my bed - a full size mattress on the floor.

No bed frame, no box springs. Mom had sold them both when me made a pit stop in San Antonio, Texas on our way to New Orleans. We needed gas money desperately, and mom needed more cigarettes. She had smoked her last pack hours before and had become quite snappy. Moms mood was usually  unpredictable, not having her smokes made it worse.

From the passenger seat of our car, I watched mom approach several strangers outside the gas station we'd parked in. Most people she approached shook their head "no" and keep moving. Finally a middle age man  in a blue collar outfit she had approached walked around with mom to the back of our trailer and unloaded the items, gave mom a small wad of cash, and walked away. I watched her walk toward my passenger side door in the side mirror, she was smiling and clapping her hands  gleefully.
"Looky here! And you thought I couldn't do it. Just enough for gas and some food . Come on in here and get you somethin' to eat." She beckoned me inside the gas station with her arm.
"Nothin too expensive. We only got $60" mom explained.