Beneathe the Surface

Beneath the Surface

Scratching the Surface

Have you ever seen something so perfect on the outside, but the moment you dissect its parts you begin to see every flaw, every broken piece? The allusion of perfection just disappears. Now imagine living in that allusion. Being trapped beneath the surface of it. My family and I are those broken pieces and our penthouse is the allusion. I'm sure you won't feel sorry for the girl who seems to have everything, but most times it honestly feels like I haven't got a thing. So if not to gain your sympathies, at least allow me to secure your curiosity. 

My father is an attorney. One of the best in New York. The guiltiest of the guilty enlist his help to spin whatever narrative they need the world to believe.  That's what he's best at after all. 

From the outside, you'd think that my family and I don't have a care in the world. They see a loving and successful father who works his hardest to support his family. A mother who's a stay-at-home mom and does her best to be there for her husband and her daughter. A pillar of her community. A dotting daughter on her way to Stanford to walk in her father's footsteps. 

None of it's real. On the inside, you'll see that my mother is a drunk, losing touch with reality and my dad doesn't even know we exist half the time. The only thing he cares about is what he can make people believe. He believes that with enough money you can make them believe anything and he was right.   

My mom on the other hand is a socialite or should I say thee, socialite. She and my dad worked so well once upon a time because of how good she is at putting on a show. Now, she lets him control everything she says wears and does, well except for how much she drinks. That would mean he has to deal with her. She's this beautiful shell of a person and her only care is at the bottom of a bottle. 

I live in a place where money is power and power is money. We have the money, the power, and the social class, but that's all. We aren't happy or at peace or loving to each other and that makes me wonder most nights when I lay awake in my bed if the power and the money are worth having nothing else.  I also wonder if I'm the only person in this house that's losing their mind. I wonder if I'm wrong for wanting to leave my family behind or if I'm wrong for thinking such nasty things about my parents. I wonder every night if I'm the only one who's not happy.... and then I think about how my father pours through women and my mother pours through Brandy and I think, no I'm not.

Day One

When I open my eyes sunlight hits me. I groin and throw the covers over my head. "Time to get up Holly." Our maid July says. 

I don't trust many people, but this woman practically raised me. I trust her, fully and completely. She's like the mother I never had. The mother that I've always wanted, the mother that I know I'll never have.

"Go away," I grumble sliding deeper into the white oversized comforter my mother said I just had to have.

"Oh I know you hate school, but you have to go. Remember it's your last year." I sigh and get up slowly. She smiles. I wipe the sleep from my eyes and yawn. "There you go." She gives me a small smile then continues,  "the driver is downstairs waiting for you. Come on, up and atom before you are late."

"Thank you, July." I give her a sloppy smile while pulling my legs over the side of my bed preparing myself to get up. She gives me a small smile and then continues on with her chores. 

"I have breakfast for you downstairs." She then leaves my room. I get up and go to my shower and wash the sleep off of me. I go to my closet and get dressed, choosing Jeans and a fitted t-shirt. I grab my leather jacket and slip it on. I brush my hair and blow-dry it. I decide not to bother with makeup and just grab my bag from the pile of clothes in the corner of my room.