Its so hard to tell people to stop. To leave you be, and let you be happy. What do you say? If you say that they
e the problem then you
e shifting the blame. You
e projecting because suddenly you
e the problem in the eyes of everyone. You can run and you can hide.
Legs dangling from the bridge while water rushes below. My feet feel like they
e floating, almost as if they
e walking on the breeze. The freeing feeling of being close to something nobody controls. Nobody can tell the rushing water what to do, but the currents. Who tells the currents what to do? There are so many ways to process hurt Im not sure if theres a correct way to deal anymore. Two people could have the same experience, and both end up completely different. One person is the water. Calm, rushing, not listening to anybody but the currents. The other person ends up as the currents. Small rushes of intensity, a pushing force, and listening to nobody. While one person grows from hurt the other gets lost. They suddenly are only attracted to those who will hurt them. They see the other getting their life together, and start to think. Maybe Im the problem. The common denominator. Thats the problem though, hurt can make you soft or make you hard. While both can be positives and negatives they don decide if you
e the problem. Abusive people hurt on purpose, or for the end goal of control. So, if you
e wondering if you
e the problem, its probably not you.
My feet wish to sit down as I stare at his stupid face puffing up with agitation. ”Im so sick and tired of life being simple. I want a complicated life. ” I think someone has watched too many coming of age movies. ”Baby, I need more, someone more, Im sorry. ”
”So, are you breaking up with me? Is that whats happening here? ”
”Yeah, ” he says defiantly like hes holding his manly ground. I roll my eyes and stomp away. ”You aren gonna say anything?! ”
e stupid Charlie! ” My voice echoes while my feet rush back to him. I give him a good shove and he takes two steps back. ”Go home to your mansion and your simple life. You can kiss my ass! ” I kick dirt at him feeling pissed.
”Screw you Mona! ” He stomps off to his car, kicking up dirt as he speeds away. I keep walking as fast as I can, but after ten minutes Ive used up the little amount of energy I have. Hes so dense, he always thinks he wants to not be rich and preppy, but hes too privileged to ever be complicated. He does this all the time, then tomorrow after school hell call me asking if we can hang out. Ill say yes, because without Charlie I have nothing.
What bothers me though, is when we do these break up scenes, Im left feeling nothing. Not that, ”Im so heartbroken ” nothing, but the I don care about anything feeling. Why would I care? I always have to pretend to be someone else when Im with Charlie. Him and I have dated on and off for the last year, and he doesn know anything about me. He never felt the need to get to know me. Hes never asked me anything about myself. He doesn know my middle name, my fathers name, or my favorite color for Christs sake. I always have him pick me up at my ex-friend, Lils house. The truth is I pretend that I live with a well to do family like everyone else in my school. Honestly, sometimes pretending is more work then just living with reality.
When I enter my real neighborhood I pull my hood up, and hold my keys between my fingers. The grungy buildings look over me. Nobody from my school would ever consider coming close to this part of town. This is where the druggies, dealers, and undesirables, as they say, live. Theres a hooker on every other corner, and a meth addict dying on almost every wall.
At school I pretend to be this preppy girl whose father is always away on business. In reality Im the girl who has no father, and hardly a mother. I live in a dangerous part of the city, while my fathers mother pays for my expensive school. He always wanted me to be well educated. His mother hates my mother and I, not that I can blame her. If I was her I would hate us too.
I rush into our apartment that we pay $100 a month for. Our landlord is some greasy perv who stays two doors down. I don think she even pays rent anymore, to be honest. Lately, Ive been sneaking in, and squatting in my room after shes passed out. I try to not interact with her very much because its never good. She also asked me to stop living there a couple months ago, so Im left to sneak around.
When I open the door my mother lies on the couch, her skirt pushed up a little too far. Considering shes passed out, our landlord must have stopped by to get his dual payment. I look at the pathetic women who I still somehow call mother. Yes, shes a meth head, but not only that. She does anything she can get. Shell do meth, coke, acid, even your grandfather if theres a possibility he can hook her up. My shoes make a tapping sound as I walk across the flat carpet in my bedroom. The blankets are cold on my neck, and smell of cigarettes and weed. I lay in a bed meant for a 12-year-old. My toes grab the back of my shoes and slide them off onto the floor. My feet dangle off the bottom of the bed, and I feel the carpet brush my toes. I close my eyes with my pocket knife clenched tightly in my fist. Its a dangerous world, you can let your guard down, especially when you
I wake up early in the morning to sirens outside. My heart jumps when I come out of my room to the shuffle of shoes in our kitchen. I slowly come out my eyes glued to the door when the landlord pops out. ”Hey there kid! Long time no see! ” I puke in my mouth.
I stare at the scar running across his cheek that I gave him after he tried sneaking into my bed one night. The thought of his surprise when I pulled a knife out from under my pillow makes me laugh. ”What the hell are you doing here so early? ”
”I guess you don know since you haven been home much lately. Your mother and I have decided to start seeing each other. ”
”Home, ” I whisper to myself, he gives me a funny look when I laugh to myself. ”Good luck, because once she knows you two are going out, shell start asking for a lot more. ” I open the front door, ”Oh, and a word of advice? ” I turn to look him in the eyes, ”Stay away from the study room, ghosts, if you know what I mean. ” I see his face turn whiter before I dip out with a smirk.
Disgusting, I actually feel a bit bad for the nasty little man. My legs prickle at the wind hitting my bare legs. Damn private schools and their school girl costumes. I almost think the vibration of my phone is a shiver. ”Hello! ” I say holding out the e.
”Hey Mona, its me, Lil. ”
”Um, hi? Whats up? ”
”So, I heard you and Charlie broke up last night…again. ”
”Yeah, and? ”
”I just wanted you to know you don deserve him is all. Bye. ” She hangs up, ending our pointless conversation.
I start to see the school when the sound of tires on dirt reaches my ears. The car rolls down its window when it parks. Charlie sits in the drivers seat and gives me a nod, so I get in. ”Hey, I wanted to apologize for how I acted last night. ” Getting straight to the point, thats new. ”I was an asshole, and shouldn have said that. ” He lays his hand on my thigh while staring me in the eyes. I know what hes searching for, Im just not sure if I wanna give it to him. I like my teeth searching for what to say.
”Look Charlie, weve been together for a while. Im just not sure if I want to pick this back up again. I think I might need some time to think. ”
”Okay, just know that when you start missing me, Im always here. Whether we
e together, or not. ” He says as he slides his hand up the corner of my uniform.
The realization of what my problem is hits me like a truck. My feet hit the pavement while my legs run for the warmth of school. I stay with people who use me, and I u