Mom
My family wasn't like most. We didn't go very many places and we didn't have any special "family get-togethers." In fact, all I knew about my family was my mom. I didn't have a father or siblings- not even aunts, uncles or cousins. It was just me and my mother. Her strawberry blond hair was long and wavy, and I don't think she had ever cut it because it stretched down her back. She usually wore it on top of her head in a sort of pony tail. Her eyes were deep brown and her skin was the color of white bread and covered in freckles. She was about five feet tall and very thin. I looked nothing like her as I had straight, dark chocolate hair, green eyes, and my skin was about four shades darker. I assumed I must look like my father, whoever he was. She always seemed nervous or scared as she constantly chewed at her ragged nails. The curtains were always drawn and when a car drove by she would peak out and make me duck down. A haze filled the cabin, caused by her chain smoking. When I was small she was home most of the time. Every once in a while she would leave for a couple of days and then come back. Upon her return she always had food and new clothes for me. While she was home she spent a lot of time in her room with the door locked. The moments we had together we would play simple games or sometimes she would take me to the public library and we would check out books, which she would read out loud. Most of them I didn't understand, but sometimes she would check out a book for me with lots of pictures. Once a year she took me to get my picture taken by a photographer and she would have me wear beautiful, expensive dresses. As I grew older she spent less time at home. More and more frequently, she would disappear for days, and then for weeks. Finally, when I was twelve, she disappeared for months.
Our home was a small shack outside of town, nestled in the woods and surrounded by overgrown foliage. The shack itself had only three rooms. There was my mother's bedroom, the bathroom and the big room. In the big room we had an olive green couch with rips in the seat and tears on the seams that doubled as my bed. We also had a small wooden table with two chairs. The kitchen area had a stove, a sink and a small refrigerator. Above the sink was a row of two cabinets and over the stove wereanother two cabinets. The floors in the shack were bare wood and cold would sweep up from underneath in the winter. We had a small wood-burning stove that was always kept going. The bathroom had a tub but no shower and a sink and toilet. There was a mirror above the sink that was cracked down the middle, and the linoleum floor was discolored from leaking water. I never went into my mother's room as she forbade it. We never had a television or cable. We didn't even have a telephone. Although we did have a small radio that occasionally we listened to, however, it only received a couple stations. After my mother left for months, we lost electricity. Then I had no choice but to take cold baths. My food supply was also thinner than usual and I ate mostly crackers and canned food items.
The town we lived in was an average small town containing a few fast food joints, banks, a couple of nice restaurants, a library, a park, and a few other businesses scattered here and there. We had three elementary schools, one junior high and one high school. I went to Brennan Elementary. I caught the bus every morning and rode it home every afternoon. If I missed the bus I had to walk. I didn't have any real friends in school,just a few acquaintances and occasionally I went to birthday parties. I'm sure I was invited simply out of pity. My poverty was obvious by my appearance and shabby clothes. I was amazed by how other people lived. They had houses many times the size of mine with televisions in every room and what seemed like an over abundance of food. Their families consisted of moms, dads and brothers and or sisters- normal, happy lives. My life with my mother was solemn. We didn't talk much when she was home because she was usually in her room. Also, we had to ration our food. I didn't understand why our life wasn't more like others'.
After my mother disappeared for months I learned to fend for and completely take care of myself. My mother had never really taken care of me; however, she had been there most of the time and had brought food and clothes. Suddenly she was gone. I was afraid of what might happen to me if anyone knew so I isolated myself more than usual. I came home immediately from school, napped and then went trashcan diving. I memorized the trash service schedule and would look for scraps of food or stale crackers and outdated cans of food that people threw away. At home I washed my clothes in cold water and hung them on the trees to dry. My baths consisted of cold water with no soap or shampoo unless I was lucky enough to find some in the trash somewhere. When notes had to be signed at school, I forged her signature for everyone. In the past I had only done it on occasion. To keep myself amused on weekends before trashcan diving, I would go to the public library and check out books and read. I pictured myself as the characters in the stories, whichhelped me to escape the life I lived.
One Saturday afternoon I finally picked the lock to my mom's room and ventured inbecause I was mad at her for being gone so long and not bringing me food. In her room she had a small bed which angered me as I had to sleep on the couch with springs in my back. She also had a dresser containing pictures of me and bunches of letters from people I'd never met. Needles, rubber bands, empty tubes and bags covered with a powdery residue spilled across the drawers. A bit of the residue stuck to my fingers and I licked it off, bad mistake. Ewww! The nasty chemical taste didn't wash down even after several glasses of cold water. I took the letters and pictures of myself, emptied out my school backpack, and I stuffed the pictures and letters inside, along with some clothes and a few useful trinkets I had accumulated from the trash. I left in the night.
