The streets of Manhattan were filled with anxious people. The people who live here, know I'm not from here and the tourists don't care otherwise. Some of them push by, stare, or mind their own business. Funny thing about New York, it's full of many different faces and people. But I feel like I stand out the most.
I have been living here for two weeks now. My mother and I moved here because she got a rich boyfriend.
Before that, we lived in Idaho. Most people don't even know it's a state in America. And that's why I liked it. The town we lived in was small and secluded perfect for my situation.
But here in this city. This huge city of seven million people... is going to be the death of me. Or many others.
For as long as I could remember, I had these feelings. My mother thought it was just "puberty" but it definitely wasn't. As I grew older, the feelings grew.
I could knock something off the shelf with a wave of my hand. I would break tables when I rested my arm on it. In the middle of the night everything in my room, including me, would be floating.
After all of this stuff started happening, my mother treated me different. She wouldn't talk to me somedays and I've been having to pay her. Pay her for the therapy she has to go to because of me.
Funny how whenever she comes back from her therapy lessons, she either brings home a new Prada bag, shoes, earrings, rings, anything.
After that I was very skeptical with everything. Noticing that we don't look anything alike. I have an accent, she doesn't. And I don't remember anything. Everything I know, I've been told.
It's hard know something and remembering it clearly, when you've only had someone explain it to you. I don't quite know how to explain that I don't remember my life, but that's how it is
I've asked my mother what I was like as a child and she just said I would do normal kid things. I would try to get her to expand on that but she never could.
Now that we are in New York, she doesn't even pay attention to me. She does have to even she has this "rich" boyfriend to pay for all the things she wants.
Every time I bring it up, she hits me with, "I am your mother, I have been there for you since day one and this is how you treat me?" Blah Blah Blah...
I just hope one day, I could understand myself, and others around me.
