Wanderer

Chapter 1.1 "THIS IS ME"

I am Jane Ola Fawn, named after my dead mother, Ola Encanta, a gorgeous and wise woman, but too soppy for me, so I couldn't stand her. Originally, I am from Spain, which is a storage of my childhood memories, the ordinary and carefree life I used to enjoy. I and my parents moved to the US a couple of years ago. I can't remember exactly but it happened briskly and unexpectedly, no one asked me whether I liked this change. I was 15 and by that time I had already discovered how pleasant my being was. Ten parties a week, tones of friends to hang out every time I wanted and various types of boyfriend candidates standing at my doors added to my popularity at school and clubs - that what my life was full of. 

Anyway, I would describe myself at that age as a selfish bitch without complexes but with hatred which I cannot explain even now. It was growing day by day somewhere in my heart. Seemed that I became not stress-resistant and angry with anyone who disturbed me. I could predict something terrifying was gonna happen in my life that would turn my whole story on a different degree, or form a colossal change in my lifespan that I couldn't measure or analyse using my previous experience. For the first time, I felt really scared and helpless, plus I begin to understand how fame was close to loneliness. Occasionally, the shadows from my past appeared in my eyes fade, although, I can't admit I was so glad to see myself from the other perspective. I was recording all the things I had done and, after a long time of reflection, the insight finally happened. Intrigued, step by step I tip-toed to a huge 1-metre height mirror to observe my appearance in the whole, despite the frustration increasing inside. After a sequence of moments, I huffed and dared to raise my head and had a look at myself...Skinny girl with oily curly black hair put on a triangle face was standing just in front of me, so close I could touch her. I was astonished when noticed terrible, darker than night, circles under the eyes left by the tears on the spilt mascara; a tongue sliding between crooked grey teeth and slicking her blue, grinning, bitter lips, coated with blood. Granny's sweater, made of coarse beige texture, which closed her bruises on the neck, the signs of great father's love - this all was impenetrable and I couldn't comprehend anything I saw. From the swollen vein cuts on both hands, my sight moved to her eyes. They were burning with a flame of despair and pity, showing the desire to kill someone and see their suffering...Monster...I heard the noise of a tear fell on my parquet floor. "You are a monster!" - I screamed and, spreading my rage, hit the mirror with my fist as hard as I could. Crack! My clone split into the smallest pieces and in a second they all flew apart covering the room and my skin. I fell on the floor and started yelling and swearing "Moster!" between sobbing and hysterics. I felt like my life was broken with that mirror, but it was for my own good. My life was changed henceforth. At least, I hoped.

At midnight I was awakened by the call from a hospital. They said my parents had died in a car accident and ordered me to pack my stuff for moving to an orphanage. "Finally"- I thought but didn't manage to say it aloud. Why? I don't know. I left my house at 7 am with a couple of tall men. They didn't say me anything after a look in my eyes. I wasn't feeling anything since the last night, although that was a kind of strange behaviour for a person whose life collapsed a few hours before, - guys in the car thought. The whole way to my new home with only a small backpack on my knees, I was listening to a driver crying quietly. He was sorry for my loss and destiny. In the middle of the trip, he forced himself to say through tears "Pull your socks up, mate! Pain is temporary."

Pain. Is. Temporary. 

It is so much fun to hear...