I wake up…slowly creeping down the hallway, dragging my feet from left to right, left to right, left to right. There is no expression to describe my pain. The guilt is stabbing into my chest and out my soul, it’s, literally eating my flesh alive. I can barley breath, again, taking a deep breath, in and out, in and out, as I try not to remember all the memories, and laughs, and then some cries. I lost the one person that I thought I would never lose so quickly. I was so mean and disrespectful to that person. Yet how they treated me so good? Was it because they felt sorry for me? Alternatively, was it to be that they just loved me? I do not know, but it feels good to know that I still remember her kind heartwarming face.
Chapter 1
Still drenched in rain; my face is wet from the tears. Can I just take it back, and let her hold me once again?
As my aunt Emma pulled up, she quickly got out of her old pick up and grabbed me. Although, she was trying to console me, I was trying to console her. She lost her sister, and I lost my mom. Now, we both were wet both crying and both lost for words.
Finally, Aunt Emma controlled the tears and slowly made her way to the car.
Casually, I followed.
It was quiet. The silence was even more painful. I needed to get my mind off the situation. However, the only way that was possible was if… I died too.
I could not describe how many times that solution popped up in my head. My mom was everything, my best friend, my back up, my hero, most of my only parent.
My dad left when I was only little. My mom raised me as a single parent. Known to be the strong woman she would be today. As for my dad, we will just call him the DICK, since he is one. However, my mom raised me good and well. Just to say that every night I had food on the table and clothes on my back and a roof over my head, and, the best part is we did not need a man in our life. Why,
We had each other.
You know, I never knew how much you meant to me until you left. How much you did, how much you cared. I just wanna say I am sorry for all that I put you through, how much agony I left you when I ran away…. Sadly, I cannot take any of those things back . . .
Chapter 2
Here I am in the back of a childcare workers car. My mom would never let me be in this position.
I swear, sometimes I think my aunt is loosing it.
As, I got outta the car, a middle-aged man with dark curly hair, led me to my designation. He wore classes that covered his face and he walked as if he had to go to the bathroom.
As he led me into this women’s office, I began to think something was wrong.
She smiled at me, hoping for me to smile back.
Therefore, I gave her an awkward smile, and sat down.
“Honey, do you want something to drink?” The woman said.
She was talking to me as if I was a baby.
“No Ms. But can I ask what am I doing here?” I questioned
“Honey um, your aunt-“
“Cut to the chase. Tell me the truth, the whole truth. I deserve to know.”
Two long, dreadful hours later, I finally got the truth out of that stubborn middle-aged woman.
As I am choking on my words now, feeling a little dizzy as I am strolling through my old bedroom, trying to figure out why all this happened, why this all this happened to me.
After my aunts’ funeral, I slowly repacked all my stuff and loaded to the back of a big truck. I repacked slowly, while I reminisce over everything that I have left of my life. It seemed like everything was crashing before me, and there is nothing I can do, but stare into the blackness.
As I am writing this, I think I am going a little too fast. Let me introduce myself to you-
Hi, my name is Kayler Marie Hope Fletcher. I have curly red hair that reaches all the way down to my butt and I have big bright green eyes that glisten and sparkle with the sun. I also have the prettiest country accent you have ever heard; I have fine skin dark skin. I have no blemishes or bumps, just soft irresistible skin…
These things are sadly all a lie.
Hi, my name is Kayler Marie Hope …. (I do not like reminders of my last name.) I also have what I call to be do-do brown hair, which looks chopped up and looks like it belongs in a meat store. My eyes unfortunately are also brown, and they have no apparent glisten or shine whatsoever in them. My skin, ugh, do not remind me. When you look at me the first thing you see is Connect-the-dot game. I have freckles, lots of them, and my skin, not so great either. I have what you call acne, (more like acne CITY) And, my voice is high and squeaky and most of all embarrassing!
These sadly are my flaws.
I was born and raised in Bridgewater, Maine, population…612. Homeschooling is not what I recommend for my own children because I for one HATE IT. Because, when mother was alive all we would do was fight, and fight. When dad would come home, all he would do was drink and cuss, and bark out mean and hurtful things. I hated it home. But- I for one has always been the troubled child. The older sister got everything. She had straight A’s and had a perfect life, perfect boyfriend, and perfect hair, perfect everything, even got prom queen. She was even mom’s favorite. It is almost disgusting. Now- she is too far up herself to give a crap about me.
She never really liked me anyways.
Therefore, as far as right now, I have no sister, no aunt, no dad, and no mom.
Gee, maybe I should win an award for the most losses in one week.
Should I keep writing ?
