THREE.

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June 16th, 2016

Life is at a standstill. Whenever I try to pull myself out of this everlasting slump, I fall straight back in. I haven't left my house in almost a week. I can feel myself going crazy, I can hear the walls whispering and I swear I can feel the air swaying around me as I disturb its stillness. I spent all of yesterday passed out on the couch. Dreaming.
I ought to go out and take some nice photos of central Presley, just to get back into the swing of things. Maybe I should start using my blog again and putting up decent quality work; even if it's not that great, it's worth taking those baby steps. There's a nice wooded area that skirts the east of the city, and beyond the woods are mountains that are dented with winding roads leading to neighbouring municipalities of a more country-like and earthy setting. Sometimes Sofia and I would go on adventures, hiking in Diamond Creek, or even further out in the White Valley, where a crystal blue lake sits in a trough between enveloping mountains, thick with rocks and greenery. So much beauty could be captured with my HD camera – the world around me is always waiting to be noticed. I have the fortune of both city and nature right at my fingertips, but yet the ceiling fan in my living room sometimes appears more compelling to me.

I call my mother to make sure she's fine, and to reassure her that I am, despite being quite close to having an overdue rent for the fourth time. I still have a bit too much pride to ask for money, even with my background being raised by stinking rich entrepreneurs. There was a time when I was younger where stealing money off of my mother and father was the norm rather than a rogue move. Now that I'm old enough to support myself, I know either parent would be wary to jump at the opportunity of lending me any money I might need. I would just rather it was for extra funds, or bonus cash and not money I need to survive. I put that on myself, not my retired parents.
My mother and father were both successful in the stock exchange market, becoming millionaires within a decade of entering it. They met on one of their business ventures in Dubai, around seven years before tying the knot and eight years before I was born. They were only young semi-rich tycoons in their mid-twenties, but they were still on the rise, and they became a power-couple combined. I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth; laid into a silver cot, with an ivory white nursery door and a silver name plate drilled into it. My parents divorced when I was only four, and I was at the centre of a three-year custody battle, being ping-ponged from state to state, or country to country, as my parents tried to tie me to either of their ever-changing lives. That is one of the reasons why I just swiftly handed Hudson over to Sofia, to nip it in the bud and prevent the hassle. Of course, I have to pay child support, but it's better than nothing.
I remember spending a year of my childhood living in the Bahamas, and another year in Stockholm with my father before being taken back by my mother, who settled into a Bluebeach manor when I was seven. My dad also moved back to the States, but stayed a few hours away. Their divorce never hurt the family financially; I was their only child, so instead of having a bank of Mom and Dad, I now just had a Bank of Mom and a Bank of Dad.

"Are you sure you don't need any money?" My mother chirrups over the phone. She's in her mid-sixties now, living in retirement luxury in the Mid-West. She sold the mansion I was raised in to move into something more suitable for her ripe age, with the right amount of space and accessibility. I haven't visited her in around six months, and I sometimes wonder why I don't bother.  I can't expect money from either of my parents if I don't even give them my time.
"I'm fine, Mom, I promise. I'll let you know if I'm struggling." I lie.
"Your inheritance won't last a lifetime, you know." My mother says. "You have to build yourself, by yourself. You got five years left until your forties, kid. Get it together." Her tone runs stern in a matter of seconds. She is always so good at that; jumping from one voice to another. It is enough to put you on edge. I know she's just concerned, and I can't fault her for being so blunt. My money problems were also one of the reasons why Sofia left me. "We raised you so that you could fend for yourself, and we hoped it would pay off. We also raised you so that the Government Man wouldn't be chasin' you down."
"I know, I know. I get it." I sigh. When you're at rock bottom, a lecture just does nothing but remind you of that. I hoped thinking of how I once used to splash cash on Sofia or Hudson for the hell of it would be my motivation to hoist me out of these depths, but it doesn't work. Nothing works.

Jennifer TwoWhere stories live. Discover now