the beginning to my new story

The welts are finally going down, and I can begin to see again. I look around and I see a small lamp dangling from the ceiling. They locked me in the closet this time. Better choice then the dark musty basement, I guess. Ill just sit and wait for them to open the door and drag me out to clean or help their lazy asses. I’m sick of living in this shithole town, i’m sick of Louisiana, and i’m sick of me.

All at once the door swung open hitting my face on an already tender bruise. "Get up you dirty little tramp. Next time I ask you to get me a drink you will wont you?"
"Yes" I replied reluctantly. Since when was it okay to treat a 16 year old this way? I thought to myself.
"Yeah that’s right, now get out of my house, go see your damn senile grandfather or your little druggie friends nobody wants you here" I walked out of the house and wandered aimlessly for a while. I know any normal girl would be in tears at this point, but it’s nothing new. I’m used to it all; i’m used to being nothing.

I finally reached the center of town where I saw Traci and Zim on the train tracks smoking a butt. Thank god I thought to myself, am I in need for one of those. As I approached them they handed me an already lit cigarette.. Damn do they know me well. "What the hell happened to you" asked Zim.
"She hit me again, knocked me out. But I don’t want to talk about it"
"Cady you really need to talk to people about these things, it helps you know." Traci paused after she saw an annoyed look creep onto my face. "I mean its okay to cry once in a while"
"What’s that song again?" I asked sarcastically.
Zim and Traci broke out into song "big girls don’t cry"

I don’t know how but we manage to turn the darkest of skies into paintings of turquoise oceans with sunlight reflecting off of each radiant bead. I mean sometimes ill lay in bed just praying that I wouldn’t wake up in the morning. Wishing I could stay in my dreams. I mean it’s almost disgusting in a way to think that my dreams are more comforting than reality. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I want. And I sure as hell don’t know where I belong.

"Where are we going?" I asked inquisitively
"I don’t know maybe just down to the reservoir, we can get high there and just chill." replied Zim
"Maybe watch the stars?" I yelped
"Of course"

The world swirls around me when i’m starring up at the stars, it’s like everything I can’t have floats above me just waiting for me to grab it. Just waiting for me one day make it there.

“Someday you’ll have to get over your pride Cady. It’s not always gonna be this way, its not always gonna be this hard.” Traci explained. “I mean your almost 18 just imagine what kinds of things there are to see. What kinds of people there are to meet. It can’t stay this bad forever.”
“You’d never understand my life guys… far worse than anything I’ve ever told you.”
“I know but you won’t talk to us…”
“it doesn’t help to talk about it” I interrupted.
“whatever you say Cady..”

Zim rummaged through his pockets to retrieve the green substance known as pot. Mamma calls me a druggie but I’m not, and neither are my friends. Its just we smoke because of boredom, we smoke because of pain, we smoke because there’s nothing else in life that we give a damn about. It’s really all we have sometimes, and it’s always there. The sun slowly hid itself and the moon took its place. It was a small crescent moon which sat way up in the night sky dancing with the stars. We sat silently starring up at the sky while taking long, harsh hits from Zim’s perfectly rolled joint.

This was our normal routine, our parents didn’t care much about us so we’d spend most of our time wandering our small Louisiana town, and smoking pot to pass the time. It was the only thing that really ever got my mind off of the pain in my life, aside from visiting my grandpa. We all used to live together, things weren’t always so bad, then my grandmother died leaving my grandpa with shares, and trust funds. He moved out and bought his own house, so he now lives alone. My selfish parents refuse to visit him. And refuse to drive me, so I’ll walk miles across town and into the city to his house on the main strip in New Orleans.

A nip in the air forced us to our feet, so we made the journey back to our dysfunctional homes. I stepped in the door quietly; I wished that I would be unheard. My mother walked through the living room with a box in her hand. She had been looking through my room, rummaging though all of my things.

“I found your damn stash.” She screamed at me
“Mamma I don’t know what you’re talking about...”
“Don’t play dumb with me missy, who buys you these cigarettes, where do you get these drugs?”
“I uh...” I stuttered and was abruptly interrupted.
“I said where did you get these.”

Mamma starred at me with her vicious eyes, waiting to pounce on me. I could see it in her expression, that she wanted me dead. I had no explanation for her so I walked out of the room and slammed my bedroom door closed. I could hear her screaming obscene phrases at me, but I didn’t care. I felt safe in the comfort of my room. I laid on my bed starring at the ceiling for what seemed to be hours. I waited patiently for the house to quiet down and for the small morning hours to approach. I crept down the hall to the bathroom and reached into the cabinet to find my small shiny razor. I’d sit by myself and hold the razor in my hand praying for the courage to press down.

The morning sun quickly engulfed the sky and I took off before they had the chance to bother me. School was boring and full of dramatic teenagers with problems no bigger than a field mouse. I wander down the hallway of this ratty old school, the musty smell permeates in my nostrils and I am reminded it will all soon be over. I glance across the hall to see a few freshmen. It amazes me how I could have ever filled their shoes. As I've seen the many different “types” of kids flow through this school, they seem to get sluttier and sluttier as the years fly by. I remember walking into this school like I owned it. We all thought we were god’s gift, when we were rudely awoken.

We dressed how we wanted, and lived how we saw fit. You see, there were 4 major groups; Preps, stoners, straight edged weirdos, and just plain queer antisocial kids. I of course, fell into the pothead category. We listened to the music which altered America, smoked the best bud cheap, and were envied by all. I guess you could say people wanted to be us. But mostly they just wanted to live the life, not giving a fuck and feeling fine about it.

I continued to pace down the hallway keeping my focus on each ceramic square. I kept a slight grin on my face, as I looked at all of the people. I looked into their eyes and saw fear, pain and naivety. They were so young, and so unexpecting. They’d whine and cry over their new shoes not being in style, basically things that don’t matter in the long run.

I was just about to dose off in history when I heard my name called over the loud speaker. “Will Cadence Nardone please report to the front office at this time?” Without dispute I walked out of class and made my way to the office.

“Dammit another detention...” I mumbled under my breath as I approached the office. The secretary was on the phone with her boyfriend, I could hear they’re pointless conversation which kept me waiting. Finally she hung up the phone and attended to me.
“Mrs. St. Stephen is waiting to see you. I’m so sorry sweety… I’m so sorry.”
I couldn’t understand why she was apologizing to me, maybe just the fact that I was assigned yet another detention. That wasn’t the normal response she usually laughs in our faces, so I was confused. The heavy oak door of the principle’s office swung open and the equivalent to the devil stood in its opening. I stumbled in and sat in the leather chair placed before her desk. “I hate to have to break the news to you Cadence.” Mrs. St. Stephen spoke in a lulling voice. “Your grandfather has passed away. We didn’t have a home number to reach your parents so we decided to call you down personally.”

My world froze; the one thing in my life which I cared about was gone. He was ripped away from me and I wasn’t able to say goodbye. How would he ever be able to know I cared so much about him? He’ll never get to know that I looked up to him. He’ll never see me get married; drive a car, and none of the monumental moments in a teenagers life. “Alright well, will you be needing a pass back to class?”
“yes” I replied.

And that was that, she kicked me out of her office, and back into the whirlpool of hate in the world. I wasn’t about to go back to class so I paced the hallways finding Traci’s classroom. I waved in the window for her to leave, so she met me in the bathroom. We decided to ditch school and go down the reservoir and drink to get my mind off of death. We had a handle of vodka and some beers left hidden down there. Zim met us shortly after we set up our blanket and radio and began binge drinking. The last thing I remember was the music playing loudly… lyrics echoing in my head.

“I look inside myself and see my heart is black
I see my red door and its heading into black.
Maybe then I’ll fade away and not have to face the facts
Its not easy facing up when your whole world is black...”

The stars blurred together as I drifted into a sleeplike state. My eyes closed and I passed out with Zim and Traci at my side.

I woke up the next morning to the bitter reality that my grandpa was gone. I trudged home and through the door to find my mother and father seated at a table with a lawyer. “Oh sweety your home, the gentlemen is discussing something personal with us would you please go to your room?” spoke my mother in a fake tone. I headed to my room and pretended to go inside. I sat in the hallway listening to what they were saying.

“The will clearly states that the remaining funds go to Cadence, as well as the deeds to your father’s home in New Orleans.” Said the Lawyer in a sure voice.
“That can’t be possible, she’s a minor she can’t get those kinds of things.” Barked my mother
“That’s for you to debate on your own time, you can go to court and get the money transferred to you but that will take about a week. So until then it’s under her name.”

What was this? I was left his money and his house, my grandpa did love me. That night I packed up and decided to stay at his house. I took a box from under my bed and took with me some cash, a pair of clothes, a bottle of vodka, a pack of cigarettes and a piece of paper with the lawyers name on it. Walking to New Orleans never seemed to be such a short walk before tonight. I decided that in the morning I would go to see the lawyer about the money.

Wednesday was always my favorite day of the week. Half way to the weekend, half the way away from the weekend. Which ever way you looked at it, it was the same, but different. I liked the enigma attatched to it. I sauntered down the road ready to speak to the man who held my happiness in his hands. I approached a large brick building with large spinning doors, I charged through them and walked up to the secretary. She pointed me in the lawyers direction.

..... ill put it up when its finished..

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