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What Makes Me, Me.

Short story By: tommytrinder

Often in life we find ourselves in situations where we have extreme emotional experiences and it stays with us forever, however, when we try and explain this to someone else often a simple factual explanation doesn't cover it. This is a descriptive story of real events that concentrate on how the experience looked emotionally and not factually, how places felt, not how they looked.

Submitted:Aug 13, 2013    Reads: 126    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   

Dusk was creeping over the world as a cold wind blew over me. I sat, unable to see the green countryside through the barbed wire topped plywood fence separating the crumbling building behind me from the rest of the world. I sat on its steps feeling trapped in the moment with only the slow fading of the light to show the passage of time. I came here when the world was rushing past too quickly when I didn't want to go to whatever sofa or space on a friends or family's floor was my bed, welcome only until you provide a minor inconvenience. I found that the longer I sat on the cold steps the longer I could remain as unseen as possible by my latest pity provider and keep my bed. I would have to go back eventually, when the cold wind was replaced with a still freezing I couldn't bare in the few cloths I could carry with me from place to place. Every time I opened the door of my adopted home the house inside seemed gigantic to fit the proportions of the people looking down on me, and how small I felt. Don't get me wrong, these people cared about me, but any relationship is dependent on the idea of mutual reliance and respect. The longer I stayed in the limbo between having a life, and the other extreme possibility, the less respect they had for me, the less they felt they should care for me. But then again why should they, let's be honest here, being a victim of circumstance doesn't mean you have a right to everyone's charity, even at the age sixteen.
I was being dragged from place to place by the misguided hopes of a desperate women who had seemed to abandon her sense of motherhood in favour of a dying hope that she might strike it lucky and be able to live out the remaining years in relative peace, pedalling this idea to me under the guise of that my complete lack of home and education would benefit me as well. And for the most part, I remained a silent witness to it all. Despite being surrounded by constant chatter of people I knew, I felt as though I was a ghost as my every question was left unanswered and my every plea ignored by smiling faces and empty promises. And eventually, these promises were broken, moved without choice to a rundown hotel on the edge of nothing important in town. No kitchen, eating whatever could be bought cheap on the day. No money of my own so I became a hostage to the financial whims of the women who dragged me. But at least I was going to school I suppose.
I hid where I lived from the people at school; I didn't really know what my situation meant to other people, I didn't exactly know anyone who had been in this situation. Every time I walked into the perfectly angled blue building I took a deep inward breath as I laughed and lied about my circumstances to those around me, often teachers could not understand why I never completed my work or so often didn't show up, and I never questioned whatever reason they came up with. I walked those white walled corridors plastered with inspiring words in bright colours and bold letters, screaming at you of how you should behave and what your goals should be. The so called expert leans across a school desk and hands you a happy looking roadmap that appeared to ignore the realities of someone's own life. And when I had passed by the iron gates that surrounded the place of inspiration I exhaled, I had left one world and its challenges for another. But after the hotel we moved to small shack behind the councils grey stone building. They provided it as a vital lifeline, and demanded us to be grateful for every cracked window, rotting mattress, and unknown mark on the walls. No hot water, how could I go to school like that? How could I explain that one away? So I just didn't go. While she retreated in emotional ramblings and tears, I discovered white powder that melted away problems, suddenly my mind's eye couldn't see past a few minutes let alone dwell on the dark possibilities of the future.


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