Run Away With Me

I lay on my bed, glaring out the window, hating being confined to my bed. Of course, I was glad to not have to go to school and see Frank and Kalli and the others, but I hated being cooped up. Tessa was popping into my room every five minutes to make sure I hadn't hung myself, and I was tempted to cut my wrists a little just to scare her. But I wasn't allowed to walk, and Frank had taken my scalpel.

Not that I'd do that to Tessa. She was like a mother to me, since my own was hopeless junkie and probably a whore too. I only met her once, five years ago, when I was eleven.

"Don't think about it," I hissed to myself, pulling myself out of bed so I could close the curtains. It was barely a walk, more of a shuffle. Once the room was darkened I slid under the covers and covered my head with my pillow, humming myself to sleep.

Despite my hard work to not think about it over the years, I slid into the dream I had nearly every night. I was wandering down an empty school corridor, and all I could smell was cigarette smoke. It was too warm, yet too cold at the same time. I felt so alone, yet the walls were closing in on me.

"You're going to be just like me Astrid-Rose," came a hoarse female voice from behind me. I tried to turn, but my feet betrayed me and I couldn't. "In fact, you already are!"

My eyes flew open and I exhaled louder than necessary. I glanced around my room, evenly spaced, with an even temperature and no voices.

"Rosie?"

I nearly had a heart attack as Tessa called my name, opening my door slowly.

"Oh, you're awake, good," she beamed at me, walking into my room and opening the curtains, making me wince in the sudden light. "I want to have a chat."

"I don't," I muttered, looking away from Tessa so I could wipe away my tears without her seeing. No such luck of course.

"Oh, Rosie love, what's wrong?" She perched on the bottom of my bed, looking at me with concern, but I just shook my head, she knew the story, well, the beginning already, and to tell her my fears she'd have to know the rest. And I couldn't tell her.

I was eleven years old, and I was meeting my mother for the first time. All I could think of is that she looked like an older sister gone bad. Her dark hair was like mine, but longer and greasy. Her eyes were covered with dark shades and her skin was pale and sallow.

"Astrid-Rose?" She looked at me. Or near me, at least.

"Yes." I had to force the word out. She wasn't what I expected. I had expected a woman in her late-thirties, with a regretful smile. She barely looked twenty five.

"Do you want to know how I became a Mom?" She had asked, her voice rasping. I guessed she was a smoker. I nodded, trembling all over.

"Maybe this isn't a good idea," Tessa looked worried.

"Fuck off! I'm her mother," She had glared at Tessa, then turned back to me, her expression still blank. I was scared because of that, also because she swore, and I knew swearing was bad. "I met a boy, Astrid-Rose, and he knocked me up because he was too fucking dumb to wear a bloody condom. So here I am, with some fucking thing inside me, only thirteen years old, and he fucks off to God knows where!" She sighed and I stared, frozen where I was. "So I had you, Astrid-Rose, then they took you away and I got on with my fucking life until now. So tell me what the fuck you want, then fuck off!"

I had only shaken my head, and Tessa had brought me home. I can't remember much else.

My mother didn't want me, and neither did my dad. Wasn't hard to guess was it? But I didn't want to be like her. I wanted to pretend Tessa was my Mom. She had called me Astrid-Rose, so that was a link to her. I was Rosie now. When the rumors started, I wouldn't have minded, but they made me sound like her. I never learned her name.

How could Frank ever understand?