Author: Mage the Observer PM
My personal twist on a beginnings tale. Sorry it's so short, I'm a little out of practice. Written for The Village Square's Writing Festival.Rated: Fiction T - English - Hurt/Comfort - Jill - Words: 722 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 3 - Follows: 1 - Published: 04-29-09 - Status: Complete - id: 5027133
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My life sucks.
Now, when I say this, I'm not just being melodramatic. I'm pulling less-than-minimum wages from an absolute idiot of a mismanager in my current job as a hotel maid. A cardboard box in an alley would be a step up from my current apartment. Which, by the way, I'm being overcharged for. And the landlord's getting pissy about the rent, so I might yet get that box after all. Not to mention the fact that my mom's an incessant nag (when she isn't zoned out on pharmaceuticals), my boyfriend decided he was gay and dumped me... and the few friends I've kept since high school are all so happy and well-off that I can't stand to talk to them anymore. Quite frankly, I woke up this morning thinking that things couldn't possibly get any worse.
Of course, my manager went and proved me wrong by firing me. Then my landlord gave me my eviction notice, saying that I had 24 hours to either pay him the $12,000G I owed him or get the fuck out. On top of that, a letter came in the mail saying that my dad had died, and that I'd be needed at this place called Forget-Me-Not Valley to settle his affairs.
This was right before the cops came over, asking me to identify my mother. Apparently she'd overdosed, and was now comatose in the city hospital.
Terrific. Just like that, I'm a frickin orphan. Hallelujah.
I went down to the hospital, but by the time I'd gotten there she was dead. The coroner's report said that she'd chased some Valium with a cheap bottle of vodka, and basically put herself to sleep. Just like a retired veterinarian to put herself down like a sick kitten, I thought. What little was left of my mom's personal belongings went straight to The Salvation Army, along with pretty much anything I couldn't pack into a backpack and a suitcase.
And with that, I finally left the cockroaches' paradise that I'd been calling home since my eighteenth birthday. I figured things couldn't possibly be as bad back on dad's farm...
By now, I think you're getting the general way my life goes, right? Because I think it'd help immensely in explaining exactly how much of a wreck dad's farm was when I got there. Giant boulders, heavy brush, and a botanist's field study of verdant weeds greeted my arrival. The barn and chicken coop I once remembered were gone, with no trace of them remaining.
Even the house I'd spent the first ten years of my life in was torn down, replaced by a ready-build shed that was probably only better than my former apartment in that it wouldn't have rats warring with cockroaches inside of the walls. And at that, I was pretty sure that I'd want to set off a bug bomb in there before I moved in...
Thanks a lot dad.
Actually... I kinda meant it when I thought about it. I dunno, maybe it was the fresh air, maybe it was the sunlight... maybe it was just the fact that, thanks to dad's will, I now owned this parcel of land and everything on it outright. My dad hadn't been a miser, but he'd been dead sure that he'd left no outstanding debts when he'd died.
So, I had a parcel of land and a roof over my head. I had some basic tools and knowledge, and a silent partner who didn't mind helping me out when I really needed it.
For the first time in my life, I had a path to travel; and the basic means to go along it.
Maybe I'd even meet a nice guy around here. One who didn't mind my Spartan living style, my taste for 'hippie music,' or that I tended to wander off in thought at the slightest opportunity...
My old life sucked. But maybe this new one won't...
I tied back my brown hair in a rough ponytail, and got to work. I had a lot that I needed to do today.