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Cara
Before
If someone would haveasked me a week ago how I was doing, I would have smiled. Laughed, probably. Because for the first time in my life, everything was perfect.
Lifewas perfect.
I had a badass bestie that had my back. I don’t remember the last time I actually had a bestie. Never, really. The girls here are catty and backstab you the moment you close your eyes to sneeze. They don’t give a shit about you, where you came from, or the amount of change in your back pocket. They know they’re going to end up being the waitress at the diner next to the truck stop a few towns over or cashier at one of the local gas stations. Or maybe they’re the roughest ones in this town working the strip club or collecting food stamps and free housing.
Anyway, the moment my best friend Rose walked into town, I knew she was it. She was thereal deal. Her and her shitty attitude was a million times better than all the other girls’ shitty attitudes around here. At least with Rose, she wasn’t naïve enough to think this place is the shit.
Because it’s not. It sucks and so does the majority of people living in it.
Besides Rose, I had Logan.
My love, who I never really loved until it was too late.
By the time my heart collided with his, he was already sand running through my fingertips. I only had a moment to enjoy our happiness before he was ripped out of my life.
I’ve known him since I was in elementary school. I was the girl in the trailer park to tag along with the boys until one of themnot so kindlybarked at me to fuck off. With slumped shoulders, I’d walked back to my front patio and watch the boys have fun from afar. No one wanted the scraggly girl to follow along with them like a lost puppy.
They would always try and beat me down and shoo me away. But the thing is, the next day I’d throw on my worn tennis shoes and start all over again.
I had nothing better to do.
My mother was never home. When I was a child both her and my father would barely pass me a glance as they went about their lives. They’d leave me with one of the neighbors more often than not and go and enjoy their day. Then out of nowhere, my father stopped coming around. Come to find out he went to prison. Burglary, they say.
He’s been out for years, and I’ve tried to get in touch with him on multiple accounts, but I guess going to prison is like hitting the refresh button on your life, right?
He must think that the moment you get locked up, you don’t need to be a father anymore.
Whatever. Not like he would win a Father of the Year award, anyway.
My mother didn’t seem to care much that he left, either. Because not too long after my dad left, my stepfather, Jed, came into the picture. That’s when my life really got interesting.
I was old enough where I didn’t need a babysitter anymore. Mom and Jed would go out without knowing if I was fed or if I was even alive. They just did what they want and paid me no mind.
I think Logan and Easton realized this, because slowly they let me start hanging out with them. Grungy me, with my snarled hair and my clothes filled with holes and two sizes too small.
I was grateful because I think without those two, I probably would have withered away and died of starvation in my home.
Once we hit middle school, the boys started figuring out the difference between boys and girls, and it was no longer cool for me to tag along with them.
So, it was back to solitude for me. My mom and Jed started coming around more, and I thought, at first, this was a good thing. Maybe I could use all this extra time and spend it with my family.
Not.
Mom would go and work at the bar, and Jed started getting too comfortable around me.
The first time he yelled at me for not picking up after he made a mess with his pizza boxes, I basically laughed in his face.
I snorted and shook my head, ignoring him as I walked back to my room.
It wasn’t until I felt radiating pain in my skull that I realized he struck me.
With the fucking TV remote.
