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Waste Away With Me
Time
It wasn’t long before me and Olive moved to Los Angeles with my aunt in her big lavish mansion. As soon as I walked in I felt out of place with my hair a mess, my torn up clothes, and well let’s just say it’d been a couple days since my last bath. But as I slowly slipped into depression my appearance mattered less to me, the less my appearance meant to me the less my hygiene meant. The only thing that had kept me going over the past couple months was baby Olive, but now she was under the care of my aunt and I was back to being an irresponsible minor.
Only I wasn’t really an irresponsible minor anymore, I was a lonely, depressed, and slightly crazy by this point in time in my life. It could’ve been worse or it could’ve been better, I don’t know and to be quite honest I didn’t care either.
Soon Aunt Terri was introducing me to her husband that I had never met because the last time I saw her I was five years old and she was going through a divorce from Uncle Jackie. But Neil had a big tattoo of a cross on his shoulder and he looked almost as out of place as I did in the house, he seemed pretty cool though. When he lifted his hand up and waved shyly for a moment he almost reminded me of Jimmy Page for some reason.
“My names Neil, you don’t have to call me uncle if you don’t want to.” He says glancing up from the book he was reading. I didn’t say anything in response; nothing came to me to say.
“Okay, Lana, your room is over here. Come with me, I’ll show you. Neil, watch the baby.” Aunt Terri says, she puts Olive down and Olive begins walking around the room.
“Her name is Olive.” I mumble as she leads me down the hallway, she glances back at me but doesn’t say anything. She opens the door and leads me into a practically empty room, it consisted of a bed and a wardrobe only.
“I figured I’d take you shopping tomorrow and we can get some stuff to decorate it,” She says with a smile before studying me, “and if you want I can get you some new clothes, seems like you haven’t had any in a while.”
I look down at my ripped up jeans, “Sounds great.”
She leaves me alone in this practically empty room and I throw my bag on the bed. I walk into the connecting bathroom, I stare at my own reflection in the mirror for a long time. I barely recognized the fragile looking person staring back at me. The dark circles under my eyes told the story of all the nights I’ve laid awake worrying about everything, my unwashed hair was a symbol of how busy I’ve been with Olive and moving here.
I started the shower almost grudgingly and as I waited for the water to come to my desired temperature I took off my old ripped up clothes. When I stepped in the shower goose bumps rose over my entire body, the water was warmer than I had expected. After a few minutes of standing there my skin grew used to it and my muscles relaxed and I began bathing.
As I washed my hair I found myself running my fingers through my long reddish-brown curls, they went all the way to my waist and I struggled to remember the last time I had gotten a haircut. Not that I had any intention of cutting my hair off, it was just so strange to me how the length of my hair was a reminder of how much time has gone by since things were normal. I knew it must’ve been when we still lived in New York while my dad was working in a factory. He made good money and we could do whatever we wanted, that must’ve been the last time I cut it before he lost his job and we were practically poor except for the jewels that my mom was covered in that were gifts from her lovers.
When we moved to Phoenix we practically hitchhiked the entire way, I occasionally was forced into doing things with certain men, mostly truckers who had enough room for the whole family and our things. The thought brought about a bitter taste in my mouth, along with the terrible memories of grimy hands touching me in the tenderest places.
Those were the memories that kept me up all night, those were the memories that had been so long suppressed that when they were finally released they haunted me into early the next morning. I turned around in the bed and stared at one wall than I turned around and stared at the other. Soon the sun began coming up and I made my way downstairs.
Only I wasn’t really an irresponsible minor anymore, I was a lonely, depressed, and slightly crazy by this point in time in my life. It could’ve been worse or it could’ve been better, I don’t know and to be quite honest I didn’t care either.
Soon Aunt Terri was introducing me to her husband that I had never met because the last time I saw her I was five years old and she was going through a divorce from Uncle Jackie. But Neil had a big tattoo of a cross on his shoulder and he looked almost as out of place as I did in the house, he seemed pretty cool though. When he lifted his hand up and waved shyly for a moment he almost reminded me of Jimmy Page for some reason.
“My names Neil, you don’t have to call me uncle if you don’t want to.” He says glancing up from the book he was reading. I didn’t say anything in response; nothing came to me to say.
“Okay, Lana, your room is over here. Come with me, I’ll show you. Neil, watch the baby.” Aunt Terri says, she puts Olive down and Olive begins walking around the room.
“Her name is Olive.” I mumble as she leads me down the hallway, she glances back at me but doesn’t say anything. She opens the door and leads me into a practically empty room, it consisted of a bed and a wardrobe only.
“I figured I’d take you shopping tomorrow and we can get some stuff to decorate it,” She says with a smile before studying me, “and if you want I can get you some new clothes, seems like you haven’t had any in a while.”
I look down at my ripped up jeans, “Sounds great.”
She leaves me alone in this practically empty room and I throw my bag on the bed. I walk into the connecting bathroom, I stare at my own reflection in the mirror for a long time. I barely recognized the fragile looking person staring back at me. The dark circles under my eyes told the story of all the nights I’ve laid awake worrying about everything, my unwashed hair was a symbol of how busy I’ve been with Olive and moving here.
I started the shower almost grudgingly and as I waited for the water to come to my desired temperature I took off my old ripped up clothes. When I stepped in the shower goose bumps rose over my entire body, the water was warmer than I had expected. After a few minutes of standing there my skin grew used to it and my muscles relaxed and I began bathing.
As I washed my hair I found myself running my fingers through my long reddish-brown curls, they went all the way to my waist and I struggled to remember the last time I had gotten a haircut. Not that I had any intention of cutting my hair off, it was just so strange to me how the length of my hair was a reminder of how much time has gone by since things were normal. I knew it must’ve been when we still lived in New York while my dad was working in a factory. He made good money and we could do whatever we wanted, that must’ve been the last time I cut it before he lost his job and we were practically poor except for the jewels that my mom was covered in that were gifts from her lovers.
When we moved to Phoenix we practically hitchhiked the entire way, I occasionally was forced into doing things with certain men, mostly truckers who had enough room for the whole family and our things. The thought brought about a bitter taste in my mouth, along with the terrible memories of grimy hands touching me in the tenderest places.
Those were the memories that kept me up all night, those were the memories that had been so long suppressed that when they were finally released they haunted me into early the next morning. I turned around in the bed and stared at one wall than I turned around and stared at the other. Soon the sun began coming up and I made my way downstairs.
♠ ♠ ♠
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