The Insanity of a Wallflower

Pieces- XXXI

H A Y D E N
....

"I've been in foster care almost my whole life," I whispered. There was a sharp edge to my voice as I struggled with what to say next. "Fuck, I don't even know where to begin... but I guess I need to explain it all; it's so all interwoven anyway."

Alys gazed at me quietly, carefully watching my face as I forced the words out.

"My uncle and my father came from a well-off linage and ancestry; I think back in WWII some great-great-grandfather invested in the right companies. Either way, the family line was set. It probably doesn't surprise you considering my Uncle went to Harvard and was once a lawyer from Graydon Gates. As the second son he was free to do whatever he wanted, but his brother; my father, took over their father's mantle to the estate and share holds."

I wanted to laugh bitterly at the thought but held my tongue tightly in my mouth. Alys stared at me unsure, her nervous eyes darting back and forth between mine. My knuckles clenched tighter as I stared into those depths.  I wanted her to know. But I didn't want her to understand; there was nothing to understand- the words I would speak would only reveal me for the truth of what I was. Of why I was a monster.

Even still, for some reason.... I still wanted her to know.

"I suppose it's my blood." I laughed angrily.

"What is?"

I shook my head slightly, ridding the internal joke. "My mother, as dear and sweet as she likes to pretend to be- is nothing more than a selfish druggie who only got pregnant with me to tie down someone with money."

Alys' brows creased together uncomfortably. "Is that what your father told you?"

"My father?" I looked at her incredulous, "He had no idea I even existed until I was six."

"But if she used you for his mo-"

"I'm afraid my mother used more than one guy," I cut her off abruptly. This wasn't something I liked talking about, nor cared to even remember. "She was a druggie with a pretty face. She clawed her way into a few lives but cared for nobody; she only wanted more cash to fuel her luxuries and intoxicated tastes. After I was born she was too fucked up to get her facts in order and decide who my father was. I think she probably knew... I shared many similar features, but she was in no shape to demand that money. She held off hard drugs while pregnant with me, but once I was born she couldn't last long enough to make her case to the State for the money."

"My first memories of her are disturbing; eyes blackened, crooked teeth smiling as she wailed nonsense; puking and passing out in the middle of room or while driving the car. When I was just about three years old, she was arrested for having left me alone in a car for an entire night. When they found how she had been taking care of me, the deplorable house we lived in, she was arrested and I sent to the State."

I stared down at my hands, determined to keep a tight restraint on them; refusing to let them take over my emotions and control.

"The sobrieties of jail gave her enough clarity and lucidity to finally realize she had yet to sue my father. I don't think she realized it had been three years- I think, in her drug induced haze, she thought that I was still a baby. She filed for the support for her baby, which confused that State at first as I was three, and belligerently harassed them to contact the man who was my father."

"They wouldn't though. Come to find out she had no legal grounds to file child support anymore, and I don't think they believed her when she said who my father was. She had lost all custody of me after she was charged and prosecuted under State law for child endangerment and a few drug felonies. I wouldn't hear from her again until I was five- and even then it was only because she wanted to use me for money."