Life as We Know It.

Natalie Gwyn Harper

Appearance is extremely important to me. Not necessarily what other people look like, but I have to look good. It's not an egotistical thing. It's just I'm too ashamed to show people who I really am; the exception being my three best friends and my boyfriend. They are the only ones that truly know the real Natalie Harper.

My mom died when I was in seventh grade from a drunken driving incident. Both of my parents had a little too much to drink at my dad's work Christmas party and when my babysitter called saying that I was throwing up, they rushed home. Along the way they hit another car, flipped, and was stopped by a cluster of trees on the side of the road. My mom was killed on impact. My dad, well he hasn't fully recovered.

Drugs filled the hole in his heart, for a brief amount of time, the time span of the high. Soon enough my mom's life insurance money ran out and we couldn't pay the bills and were forced to move to the only place that we could afford; a dumpy little two bedroom trailer on one of my dad's friend's land where lots of other people stayed because it was convenient. Lots of drugs, lots of booze, lots of gross people slowly losing themselves.

My dad continually gets fired, job after job, so he's not reliable to pay the bills or feed us, leaving it to me. I've worked at a thrift shop since I was a freshman; I begged the manager to hire me even though I was only fourteen and wasn't supposed to be working. But she took pity on me and eventually started driving me to and from work when I couldn't catch the bus. But as soon as I got my license and saved up for an extremely cheap clunker, I started working at Gemma's step dad's winery as an assistant to the manager as well as staying that the thrift shop. The assistant job is easy enough, file orders and other important documents, answer phones and take down messages. Really it's an unneeded job and was probably just create out of pity, but I'm not complaining. I need the money.

Most of my nicer clothes are stolen from Gemma's closet. She's shorter than me, and has more curves but she doesn't bother with getting any of her clothes tailored so most of her things fit me, and he doesn't seem to mind. I slip bangles over my wrist and check myself in the cracked mirror in the bathroom. I stick with a three fourths quarter sleeve blouse, despite it being the middle of August in California. It hides the bruises on my upper arms. I can't even tell if they're old or new. Whatever, I'm used to it.

The air conditioning doesn't work in my car so I drive to work with the windows down and by the time I arrive I'm hot, sticky, and my hair is knotted. But I don't fret about it too much because I'm late.

"Sorry I'm late," I say to my boss, Greg, then noticing Gemma's step dad talking to him in his office. "Oh, hi Mr. Codwell."

"Natalie, its Herman or Herm. That's what you called me before you started working here, you can call me it now," the old man smiles.

I smile at him back then take my spot at my desk and start checking messages. But it's not long until I've finished all the work that has to been done for the day. It's almost harvesting time, but until then I don't have much to do other than take orders, and most people just go to the liquor and wine stores that Herman owns if they want one of his wines.

I spot Gemma walking up the to the front door with a large tote bag in hand, her hair wilder than normal from the humidity.

"Hey Love, I brought you, Dad and Greg lunch," she smiles at me.

"I love you," I gush. "I'm starving. Can you stay and eat with me?"

Gemma shake her head, sending her mane in every direction. "No, I promised Ali that I would go school clothes shopping with her. That and Conner is coming home for a few days so she needs slutty lingerie."

"Is she going to tell him about the Rob incident before or after the strip tease?" I giggle.

"That's a good question, I'll have to ask her," Gemma smirks.

"You're always causing trouble."

"She's the one that caused the trouble. I didn't spread her legs for her and guide Rob's dick in her vagina. That was all them, I just heard the stories, which weren't from Ali by the way."

"Well you have fun. Thanks for the lunch."

Gemma gives another smile before waving goodbye, leaving me to my large salad that I know Gemma prepared herself.

I stop by my boyfriend Derrik's house after work. I immediately fell for his eyes and his kind smile, but I've learned that looks can be deceiving, myself as an example. We were perfect together for the first year but then things started heading south, like all good things in my life. But girls always pick guys that are similar to their own father’s right? Well Derrik is as close as you can get without becoming him.

"Hi baby," I rouse him gently.

"What the fuck, bitch? Couldn't you see I was sleeping?" He glares. I can see that he's in the midst of coming down from his high, that's when he's at his worse.

"I'm sorry, I just thought-"

"Thought what?" He cuts me off.

"That you'd want to get something to eat or something."

"No, I don't," he huffs, rolling onto his stomach and burying his face in the heap of pillows.

I give a small sigh, placing a kiss on Derrik's bare shoulder before leaving his messy room and into his living room. I didn't like it when he got high. A few times he's tried to quit and for a while I thought that he'd actually remain sober. But that was short lived.

My friends, especially Gemma, always gave me shit for submitting myself to this life. Yeah I couldn't escape my dad for another few months but I could cut all ties with Derrik. It wouldn't be hard to do, considering he's two years older than me and if I don't plans dates for us, our paths don't cross. But it's not that easy. I may not be addicted to drugs or booze, but I'm addicted to him.