Guns and Roses

FOUR

♕Harley Anderson♕

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" A soft and melodic voice asks me in the gloomy living room I'm sat in. She sits in  her work clothes, a yellow dress with her name engraved on the right hand-side pocket. Her green eyes swirl with exhaustion but she keeps a smile up as she talks to me. We talk softly, not wanting to interrupt the man who is sitting a few meters away with a beer in hand and a glazed over look in his eyes as he stares at the illuminated box.

"A race car driver." I respond, smiling up at my mother.

"Well then," her soft and gentle voice says "you can be just that."

A scoff is heard from the couch and my hazel orbs look to the man who takes a swig of his beer. "Don't lie to the child, Rose." He quips bitterly and my mother purses her lips.

"I'm not lying Derek."

He looks over at us with blue eyes that remind me of the sea; a raging and wild sea that nobody can swim in or enjoy because it's just so destructive.

"She will never be a racer."

My heart drops, and I look down at my lap with tears in my eyes.

"She's a child; let her dream."

"Dreams are for the weak."

My mother doesn't respond any further and instead tilts my chin up before looking at me in sympathy. "You can be anything you want to be."

"You're a girl, Harley. You can't be anything! You won't be anything!" The man booms so loudly that I flinch. My mother sighs agitatedly. "You can't race. You're too pathetic for such a thing; no talent. Think of something more realistic- like cleaning houses or dancing at night."

"Derek." My mother says pleadingly and he looks over at us, my heart crushed with my dreams, and sends my mother a warning glare, his hand tightening around his beer can. She purses her lips, looking back at me with glossy eyes. "C'mon." She whispers, grabbing my hand and helping me off of the chair. She takes me upstairs and I sniffle, wiping at my nose.

As soon as we reach my bedroom door, she turns me around and crouches down to my level. "You can be a racer, honey." She caresses my cheek and I look up at her. "I need to get to work now, okay? Stay in your room. Cyrus will bring you food."

She kisses my forehead before walking away down the dimly lit hallway, leaving me behind with hopelessness.

My father thinks I'm worthless and perhaps, I am.

****

Maybe I had being considering it, but after the dream that woke me up last night I can't help but actually put my thoughts into action. I'm taking a chance- I know that much- but his words keep echoing in my mind, telling me I can't do it. I wish it didn't affect me as much as it does but then again, no child should be belittled like that.

I needed to prove the monster in my dream wrong.

Is that why I've never got behind the wheel despite my burning temptation? Because I believed the shit that came out of his mouth?

It's these exacts thoughts that push me to pull on a pair of jeans and a plain shirt before driving to campus. The chances of my plan actually working out is slim; if I was any other person, I wouldn't even go through with it! But I can't turn back around. I need to prove this to myself; prove that I'm so much more than I've being told I am. I want to prove to myself that I can actually do it.