Just Grey: In a Black & White World

30 - She's Not Alone

Cameron -

I danced around my room, in the best mood I'd been in since I moved back to America.

Searching for jobs was hard when I technically couldn't get one until I've been in Dare for ten weeks. I gave up on that and closed my laptop screen, deciding to instead screw around with my electric guitar.

While in the middle of playing "Why'd You Only Call me When You're High?" by the Arctic Monkies, I spotted a glint of dark blue ink out of the corner of my eye. I glanced at the source; it was coming from an open drawer in my nightstand. My guitar was long forgotten as I picked up the subject. It was an envelope - specifically, the envelope.

'Carter Bolten', it read.

My jaw dropped in realization. How could I have been so stupid?

Oh shit. That's where I recognized her name from.

It was the envelope from the bookbag a stranger donated to the church weeks ago. But who would Carter be getting a private letter from? She had no family, and, as far as I know, she doesn't have many friends either. And who sends letters anyways?

I then thought about the more important questions, like who knows her name? Who knows she's a student at Dare and that there would even be a chance or her receiving the letter?

As suspicion creeped up more and more, a mental debate ensued inside my head.

It's none of my business, the good side of me said.

But it could be something interesting, the bad side countered.

After a heated internal argument about whether or not I should do it, I finally let temptation take over. I tore into the letter and opened it up. My eyes scanned across the page.

Carter Bolten,

           You don't know me, but now I'm not really sure that you ever will. At least, my true side that you should deserve to see, that is. You will, however, meet the business, murderous part of me. I wish I could explain to you in words how livid I am with you and all of your family.

       I saw you crying the other day when leaving your house. How pathetic. You don't know what real pain is. You haven't lost what I've lost. You haven't lived the life that I've lived. You had the luxury of growing up with a family, with parents who didn't abandon you and then keep their second, apparently more desirable child. You haven't been abused like I have. You haven't been neglected like I have. You haven't faced the bullies, murderers, criminals, liars, and harassers like I have.

       All I've seen from you is weakness. You put up this bitchy facade and treat others as if you're above them without reason. You think you know the world, but you know nothing. You know nothing of heartache, struggle, famine, and poverty.

        How dare you take advantage of the beautiful world you were given? I had to work my entire life for everything I ever wanted - you've done nothing with yours. You're a delinquent, Carter; a wannabe criminal. You and I both know it.

      When I was five, my father beat my mother. Then he beat me because I saw it. My mother did nothing. I continued to be abused for two years. When I was seven, I learned that I was adopted and that they didn't want me any ways. I was put in another home with parents who never paid me any mind. I was forced to take complete care of myself and my adoptive baby sister. One day when I was nine, their untrained rottweiler was barking at someone in the front yard. I was feeding the baby, Alyssa, and I knew that my neighbors hated when the dog barked so I tried to get him to stop. I still had Alyssa in my weak arms. The dog jumped up at me, scratching and yanking Alyssa from my arms. She crashed to the floor in a blurry, panicked mess. She screamed, and then stopped. The dog started attacking her so I freaked out and called 911. I tried to get the dog to calm down, but he went after me too and I couldn't get him away. Eventually the police showed up and took care of it.