Secrets of the Past

The Truth

Brian sat down on the bed and put his arm around her.

"What's going on?"

She continued to sit there, tears streaming down her face. She didn't want to cry in front of him. She felt stupid.

"Talk to me," he said softly, giving her a squeeze.

She looked at him. His face was filled with worry and confusion. She took a deep breath and tried her best to stop crying.

"It's...it's just...your family."

"What about them? Did something happen?"

"No," she said quickly. "Your family is wonderful. All of them. That's the problem."

"I don't understand what you mean."

"I've never been around a family like yours. Where everyone loves each other, and is nice to each other. It's...it's a REAL family. I've never had that. And to see it and be around it and to feel included in it..."

"But that's good, right?" he asked, still confused.

"Yes, it's wonderful. I...I'm just not used to it. It's just been a bit overwhelming." She wiped the tears from her face and took a deep breath. "My mother was a prostitute." He was taken aback by this information. Not just the information, but the fact that she had just thrown it out there.

"Uhhhh...wow..." She cut him off.

"She was a whore who slept with so many men she doesn't even know which one was my father. To this day I have no idea who he is and I'm sure I'll never know. I really resent her for that." She took another deep breath. "I might as well tell you everything." A couple more tears streamed down her face but she didn't bother to wipe them away. She was too emotional and knew there would be more.

"You don't have to. I understand it's painful for you..."

"I want to tell you," she said, putting a hand on his knee. He nodded his approval.

"When I was born I already had an older brother and an older sister. They were also bastard children with no father. None of us has ever known who our fathers are. I have two younger sisters also. In addition to being a whore, my mother was also a drunk. An abusive drunk, verbally and physically."

She shifted on the bed, turning more to face him. He sat in front of her, clinging to her every word.

"When I was 13 I started smoking and sneaking out of the house. Well," she sniggered, "if you can call a run down trailer a house. I hung around with a rather unsavory group of friends. Friends that liked to shoplift, and vandalize other people's property and possessions. Things like spray painting on people's homes and cars, smashing mailboxes, smashing tail lights and breaking off side mirrors... The list goes on."

She took another deep breath, as more tears trickled from her eyes. "We got caught a couple of times, but because we were so young and because they were deemed misdemeanors, we just got a slap on the wrist each time. Of course, I was punished at home, severely. But that didn't deter me.

I continued to be a deviant and spent as little time at home as I could get away with. Sometimes she didn't care if we were there, other times she didn't want us leaving the house. And if you weren't home when she wanted everyone home..."

She looked away from him for a moment, trying to brush the memories that flooded her brain away.

"When I was 17 some of my friends decided it would be a good idea to steal a car so we could go for a joyride. None of us had cars. So we hot wired one and took off. Got caught speeding and a chase ensued. When it was over we were all arrested.

For my one phone call I called my mom. She was drunk. When I told her what had happened she called me a "stupid fucking cunt" and basically told me I was on my own. Then she hung up on me.

So I went to court with a public defender, who told me I should plead guilty. I was given 2 years with a year of probation. It was a wake up call. While I was in there I did a lot of soul searching. I decided I didn't want to end up like my mother. I got my GED and got very interested in reading.

When I got out I had no where to go. I had no friends, and now no family. My older siblings had moved away and I had no contact with them. So I lived on the streets for a year. I did some odd jobs where I got paid under the table and used that money to buy some clothes from a second hand store.

There was a homeless shelter that I could go to for showers and to sleep a few nights a week. I made friends with a few people there and we looked out for each other.

I took a waitress job and once I had saved up a decent amount of money I got an apartment. It was a shithole, but it was a place to sleep and bathe and it was cheap. Soon after that I started at one of the community colleges. I did that for two years. Nothing but work and school.

I knew I wanted to get out of Vegas, as far away as I could actually. So I started applying for jobs online. After almost a year of looking I was finally offered a job here, which is where I have been ever since."

Tears had fallen down her face the entire time she spoke. She wiped them away and rubbed her eyes. Her eyes felt heavy, and she knew they were now red and puffy. Brian was speechless. Whatever he'd thought had happened to her, it wasn't that. He didn't know what he had thought. Maybe that it was one traumatic event, as opposed to a childhood filled with pain.

"I'm sorry" was all he could manage to say. Before she could say anything he grabbed her and held her tight. She wrapped her arms around him, never wanting to let go. More tears streamed down her face.

They sat like that for several minutes before she broke the embrace. She wiped her face again.

"I must look like a train wreck," she said with a small laugh.

"You look beautiful."

He stared at her, still not sure what to say. He had so many questions but he didn't know where to start or if he should even ask. She could see it on his face, the uncertainty.

"You have questions. It was a lot to take in, I know. So go ahead. I'll tell you anything you want to know."