Where I Come From

Alright.  So maybe Mr.G was right… I kinda like writing.  Especially cuz its not like anyone is gonna read it. So I thought I would tell ya’ll a little about where I came from.  I was born in this little rinkydinky town.  Literally born there. Yeah… Redneck moma and all.  Nah just kidding.  I was born in the west wing of my parent’s mansion.  My moma wanted a natural birth.  Well she got one… and died while having me because dad refused to answer his phone.  He hasn't ever given me a straight answer when I asked him what kept him from walking to the West Wing from his den.  But whatever. I’m ok.  It’s not like I ever really needed a mom anyway right?  I learned everything I needed from Lisa.  She’s the nanny my dad hired the day I was born and she’s been with me since.  She’s still with me actually.  But that’s cuz daddy fired her and Sam and I took her in.  Well, I told her she could stay with us until she wanted to leave and Sam didn’t say anything.  Sam is my husband by the way. We married in a quiet little ceremony on the beach.  Back to where I am.  You know, I’d rather not say where I live exactly.  But I’ll give you a hint!  It’s warm and always sunny; there’s beaches everywhere.  LOTS of people in some parts.  We live right outside the main big city that everyone knows. It’s on the top of a hill, so at night I can stand up in the loft and just stare out of the windows at all the lights and city bustle.  I love watching the people.  Always in a hurry, even though in the main scheme of things, it doesn’t matter.  They could die tomorrow.  Or right now.  Really if I had a long range sniper rifle I could take one out.  Maybe that dad who just shoved his kid.  Did I mention that when I look out the South windows I see the Projects? Yeah.  I hate it.  Sam doesn’t get it.  He never comes up here.  Never sees the pain, the sadness.  The death.  Anyway.  So when Sam and I married, daddy gave us the whole West wing.  I guess it reminds him of moma too much.  Everything was so dusty when we moved in.  Lisa helped us clean.  daddy had fired her when I got married without telling him.  I did tell him, he just didn’t listen.  Too busy with his life to care.  Never really listened to me anyway.  If I needed anything I had to write it on legal paper  –properly formatted mind you– then ask Jeff to sneak it into the mail pile.  That started when I was old enough to write.  Before that I just asked Lisa or Jeff to ask for me.  They were my real parents and my best friends.  Jeff and Lisa…  They are actually married.  But daddy doesn’t know that. Like he would care anyway.  They are good to me.  I can see how hard it is on Lisa to not spend all day with Jeff.  They have their own section at our end of the mansion.  Always quiet and clean.  I love them.