Maybe We're Just Having Too Much Fun

*Sadie's P.O.V*
Two days later I arrived in San Diego. I could not help but smile as I crossed the state lines and entered the sunny California city. It looked exactly as I pictured it would. It looked like freedom , happiness , and a new start. I felt a pounding in my heart and I felt as if I could cry, u had finally escaped all the pain! I made it! I did it! After the long trip I had three hundred and fifty dollars left to my name , not nearly enough to buy myself a place , which means I needed a job, like now.
So immediately I started to think about what job a girl could possibly get in San Diego , California that didn't require too much expirenece. When it hit me I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of it sooner. I mean seriously how could I think of becoming a stripper before thinking of this , it's the most cliche job ever. I could become a waitress! That's easy right!? I can take peoples orders it isn't that hard.
I got excited and started driving around in search of diners and resteraunts to apply to. I went into every one that I found and filled out an application. At first I was too caught up in the excitement and the urgency of the whole process to realize bit soon I bagan to notice that the managers seemed reluctant to hire me. they would stare at my arms and give me dirty looks because of my tattoos and they would avoid my face because of my piercings. I would end up walking out of the establishment with my head bowed in shame.
That's what I hate most about myself. I care way too much about what people think about me, so when people stare at my tattoos and piercing like that it makes me think that I shouldn't have gotten them. Don't get me wrong I love rag and every one of my tattoos and I'd never feel as if I never should have gotten them if it wasn't for the terror that is the public eye. So judgmental and detailed in it's scrutiny. If you aren't like everyone else you are shunned. Don't these people know that no one is normal? God I hate that fucking word.
I know I shouldn't care what other people think about and I wish I were one of those people who honestly couldn't give a flying fuck , but in reality I'm not. I spend every waking moment of every day trying to convince myself that I am but I know I will never be. It makes me so paranoid when I'm out in public and I see people laughing or having whispered conversations with each other. My mind just imediatiely assumes they're talking about me. You could be talking about anything in the world and glanc over at me for two seconds and I will think you are criticizing me. It's terrible I know but no matter how hard I try I cannot change it.
Even though I grew more embarrassed as the day wore on I continued to apply to several more places because I knew that my insecurities didn't matter at this point. They didn't change the urgency of this situation. I wouldn't be able to survive without a job, and I knew that. I applied to every cafe , every bar, and every pancake house until I ran low on gas and had to stop for more. This set me back fifty bucks and left me with an even three hundred in my pocket.
I decided that I hadn't done enough for one day. I needed to make some more money while waiting to hear back from these places. How would I do that you ask? Well all I have is my voice and a six string so that'll have to do. I remembered seeing a park as I was driving about , it was pretty populated so I decided it was as good a place as any to set up and play for money. I drove there and sat on a bench
But before I took out my guitar to play I stopped and took in my surroundings. It was beautiful. Tall trees with lots of leaves , palm trees lining the streets, children running after each other in the park and the sounds of their playful screams in the distance. Everybody seemed so happy and carefree. I saw a couple walking hand in hand , talking and laughing with each other, totally in love and upon seeing them I couldn't help but think: "Why can't that be me?"
All my life I have wished for someone to like me, for someone to understand but no one ever did. I feel as if I'm cursed to live alone. I never had any friends growing up and I still don't. Throughout school the only reason anyone would talk to me or let alone look at me was to make fun of me. They didn't like the music I listened to or the colors I died my hair, they could always find something wrong with me. My legs were too fat and my head was too big. My eyes were too far apart and my nose curved crookedly. I was too skinny and I was emo. You don't know how many times they told me to go die.
The worst part was the longer it went on the more I believed them. I started eating a lot and I died my hair back to brown. I tried to conform myself to be like them but as I tried my hardest to fit in they continued to laugh at y struggle so at one point I just couldn't see the poin of it any more and stopped trying. I went back to who I was before and settled in as the school scapegoat. Everything that ever went wrong was blamed on me, and I always took that blame without complaint. My parents thought I was going through my rebellious teenage phase , and expected me to grow out of it. They only started to get worried when I was eighteen , about to graduate , and still getting in trouble.
That was when I had to come clean that if been letting the entire school frame me for everything for the last four years. My father wasn't happy , he talked about sueing the entire school for negligence since they didn't bother to investigate the crimes deep enough to figure out that I wasn't the culprit. Those were his words not mine. I begged him not to make a scene , but needless to say he didn't listen and that last month of school was a living hell
I sighed and looked down at my guitar case , undoing the latches and taking out the guitar , laying the case out so people could drop in money. I started playing and closed my eyes as I began to sing.
"Mother where are you today
You took a piece of me the day you went away
No recollection nor the smell of your perfume
I took a piece of you the day I left the womb
The day I left the womb
Brother put your needles down
The best thing for you is to leave this awful town
Pretty soon you'll have kids to feed
If you see mother tell her I can sing
Please don't worry I am doing fine
You're much to busy to even find the time
So use your chemicals and take this to your grave
The boys you left are men you didn't raise
And daddy , how are you today?
You must be proud of the boys that you have raised
Your withered heart and everything it's seen your cuts and calluses
You had kids to feed
You had kids to feed
Please don't worry I am doing fine
You're much to busy to even find the time
So use your chemicals and take this to your grave
The boys you left are men you didnt raise!"
I opened my eyes to see that there was two singles and a five in my guitar case. Not as much as I had hopes but still something. My phone rang in my pocket and I knew it was my parents still desperatly trying to reach their baby girl. Until now I had avoided there phone calls , but now I'm thinking that I should maybe answer and tell them that I'm alright. So I answers the phone.
"Hello" I say softly.
"Sadie! Oh thank goodness you're alright!" My mom exclaims
"Hey mom" I sigh and shove my free hand in my pocket.
" Where are you?! Come home!" She pleads
"I can't come home mom I'm sorry but I can't take it there anymore. I'm alright here and there's nothing you can do change my mind. I love you , tell dad I love him and I'm sorry." I explain an hang up the phone.
I look at it for a while as it rests in my hands and tears drip down my face. I never meant to hurt my parents but I needed to get away I just hope they could understand. My phone rang again as my mom tried to get back in touch, I shut the phone off and decided to get some rest. I curled up on the bench like a hobo and fell asleep.