A Strange Attraction

Chapter 1

When life floods you with extreme emotions every single day, one gets used to the whirlwind of living a hectic, awful lifestyle. Life becomes monotonous. You wake up, you live, and then you end the day with sleep. Next day: repeat. Seven days a week, 30 days a month, 365 days a year- all of which are the same. What I am roughly describing is that of my own life.

I am an eccentric, young female at the age of 21. Ever since I was a little girl, I have been different. I was bullied in elementary school for numerous reasons. One reason was my smell. I grew up using a wood stove and the kids I rode the bus with all laughed at me and asked me if I wore chicken perfume. This was a daily happening in the winter months for years. I was tortured from 1st grade all the way until 8th grade. Even in high school people would act strange around me and tell me that I stink. Since I was always eccentric, it was hard for me to make friends. I only had one good friend all throughout grade school. I was the emo kid, I was the pothead, and I was the nerd. I was always the outcast among my peers. Even as I entered college I had trouble making friends. Since I was always treated negatively by peers, I had grown used to avoiding all human contact with the people I was around. I usually wouldn't look them in the eye or talk to them. I sat away from everyone else, keeping in the corner of the room by the exit.

My home life wasn't much better. My mom and dad tried to raise me properly but that was hard to do since we were very poor. We could hardly afford necessities. My dad was a pothead and he sometimes sold pills and pot for us to have some sort of income. Aside from being a drug head, my dad was a drunk. He wasn't a happy drunk, but a mean drunk. He would throw fits and fists. I got into many punching fights with my dad, who was half my size. Even when he wasn't drunk, he was still a sour man by nature. He was constantly arguing with us and yelling and bitching. My mom was always a good woman. She did everything in her power to protect me and raise me well. I lived in a trailer that was slowly falling apart because we could not afford maintenance. We did not have electricity, but we lived on a live wire traveling from our neighbors' house to ours. We didn't have a water heater, so we had to bathe in a pot of boiled water. The water we received came from a fresh water well. The water was brought in through a water hose running up through the floor of the bathroom. Because of my living situation, there were multiple attempts led by child services to try and get me removed from the home. Each attempt failed, as I was one adamant child and I was NOT going to be taken away from my mom. I lied to the social workers many times.

With all that being said, I still live in the broken down trailer in the squalid conditions with the parents that constantly yell and cannot get along. Here I am, sitting in my bedroom mulling over my life decisions and regretting being born poor. As I reminisce on my past, my parents squabble in the other room. They are arguing about something that one of the dogs chewed up. I sigh and block them out. I get up from my small desk, take a deep breath and then sigh. I scan my room for my jacket, making up my mind that I would go out and have some alone time in town. I would probably stop by the liquor store on the way back home afterwards. I ponder on the thought of me sitting alone on my bed sipping from a bottle of vodka or bourbon. I relished in the thought. I snatched up my blue canvas jacket and shrugged it on. Before opening my bedroom door, I grabbed my satchel and slung it across my body. Now I was ready for a night out of the house.