Alpha's Eyes [My One and Only]

[Chapter 2] Start at the Beginning

Every good story has a beginning, and I just know you are so eager to hear mine. I was born. Exciting, I know. Seriously, it’s not that big of a deal to me, and I don’t think it’s going to be a big deal to you, especially when I have something so much juicier to spill. So on to the good stuff. On to the relevant stuff.

Okay, now that I think about it, my birth is actually important when it comes to my story. I was born August 17. Two weeks ago. Well, 16 years and two weeks ago. It’s hard to tell which birthday had more significance on my life. Perhaps they are equal in importance. They have a lot of similarities. On my very first birthday, my mom pushed me out of her uterus. Two weeks ago, she kicked me out of her house. Literal. With her foot. She said good riddance to me. I say good grief to her.

My birth dad left us before I entered middle school. He’s nice enough to send me some money for my birthday. According to my mom (when she’s on one of her drunken rampages), that’s the only faithful thing my dad is capable of: paying whores. I don’t know why she thinks I am a whore, but she’s a drunk. Settles that. With my dad being a less-than-committed family man, I had never met his parents. Turns out only his mother is alive. Well, only his adoptive mother is alive. I don’t know anything about his birth parents, and I didn’t even know he was adopted until I moved into Gram’s small house. I didn’t even know I had a grandmother until mom flung a piece of paper with Gram’s address at me.

Gram is a kind lady, which makes sense considering she enjoyed taking in stray children the way some people track in dirt on their shoes. She’s old now and can barely take care of herself and her three parrots. She’s really caring or super crazy to be letting me into her home. I think it’s a little bit of both. I overheard my mom threatening to dump me if Grams didn’t take me in. Sweet, old lady Grams had been hesitant up to that point, but at that threat, she conceded.

I didn’t want to be dumped out on the streets. Although I knew nothing of this person who was supposed to be my grandmother, I was going to take it. New maternal influence. New house. New state. What could go wrong? I felt kind of bad that she didn’t want me, but was going to get me anyway, but my mom taught me that sometimes you can’t care about what other people want. You have to care about what you want, and then you live for yourself. 

So I packed up Polly, my little white Volkswagen with wooden, side panels, and drove to Indiana. Adjusting to a new town is kind of hard, I won’t lie. School started a week before I arrived. There was no set routine that all the students had got into and I was disrupting (so I assumed). But my presence made real impact, and I know it’s not my paranoia talking.

I feel like a lone lost sheep that the students are trying to shepherd. But hellooo, I speak sheep, not English, or whatever language, you get what I'm saying? Oh, I hope so. If my own readers can't understand me, I doubt there's any hope at all. Anyway, here’s a quick recap of my last week at West Erie High School:

I’d sit in one seat, and everybody would rush over and usher me to the other side of the room. I'd raise my hand to go to the bathroom, and the kid behind me to kicked me! Naturally, I grunted in discomfort and let him know of my displeasure as any cave-woman would: small words, big gestures! The teacher gave me detention. My bladder about ruptured. It was not a good day.

Students crowded certain hallways like roadblocks, preventing me from walking through. Three times this caused me to be late to class. I'm forbidden from entering certain bathrooms, and the library was absolutely off limits. The gym? Forget it. I have no idea why either. And don’t even get me started on lunch.