The darkness washes over me as I lay here in the dark hotel room. The cars passing on the highway is the soundtrack of the night outside of these walls. I spend more of my time lately just trying to drown out the pain and memories, a bottle of Jack Daniels being my only partner in crime. I swipe the blonde bangs out of my face sloppily and sigh. Maybe in another life I wouldn't be so broken. My parents and brother would still be alive and maybe my sister wouldn't look at me with shame in her eyes. I wouldn't be crawling on a stage every night to pay my room bill. I wouldn't be stumbling out of the door of the club early in the morning before the rest of society wakes up either. Maybe I would be a musician with an actual career my family would have been proud of. That's what my original dream was. Now it's just to get home alive every night and my prayers are to wake up without a horrendous hangover in the morning. It wasn't always like this. Things were beautiful, peaceful almost. I was a good girl with straight A's and a seemingly perfect family. Funny how that all can change in an instant.
I had just turned 18 years old and was 3 months away from graduation when it happened. The accident that rocked the whole town and turned my sister, Maggie, and I into orphans. My parents were coming home from picking my brother, Shawn, up from football practice when a drunk driver ran a stop sign and crashed into them, killing them instantly. The knock on the door startled me out of the essay I was writing for an English assignment. I heard Maggie open the door and then minutes later, her scream pierced the entire house.
The funerals were three days later, leaving our farmhouse filled with faces of pity, a hundred apologies, and enough casseroles to feed a third world country. I hid out in the barn, the hay bales providing the perfect cover when Maggie came to look for me. I could hear the pain in her voice as she repeated my name through the empty space a few times before turning and leaving me to the silence. I cried in my safe haven as the day passed into twilight, finally settling into nightfall. My eyes eventually dried, though only because they just couldn't produce anymore. Over the next few weeks, my will to care about anything died with my family. My grades suffered, to the point that I just stopped going to school altogether. I don't think anything hurt my sister more than me looking her in the eyes and telling her that I was dropping out and moving in with my best friend, Amy, in Atlanta. I expected her to stop me, but I guess she didn't have the strength to fight me on it. I packed my stuff up and by mid-December, I was crowded into a 2 bedroom apartment with Amy and her sister, Andrea.
The next snowballed event that jumped into my life was the night of Amy's birthday party. Everyone decided to camp out at her parents Cabin by the quarry on the outskirts of the city. One of the other girls sat with me for an hour and we passed a bottle of liquor back and forth between the two of us until it was gone. The next thing I remember was waking up on a dining room table, the ache between my legs a dead giveaway to the events the night before. I looked under the table to see an older guy, long hair and striking blue eyes looking back up at me. He informed me that I stumbled out of one of the bedrooms into his arms, sobbing about how my family would be pissed if they knew what transpired. He helped me to the table, where I promptly passed out, and he took up laying underneath it to keep watch over me. I thanked him, left, and immediately went to the apartment to pack my things. I found the emergency cash I had set aside and found a hotel downtown to hole up in.
The club I work at is definitely not something anyone would expect of a girl like me. I don't even think I would expect it of me. I started about a month after I left Amy's place. My cash had run low, the last few twenties a blaring reminder of the choices I made to get me here. The first time I stepped onto the stage, the shame I felt became a cloak that blanketed me each time after that. The money was good, this was definitely one thing I couldn't deny, but most nights it didn't feel worth it and every night it just took me further from the girl I used to know. I never fell into the whole category of doing hard drugs or hooking, but I drank. Each night I drank just so I could feel nothing. I could feel my soul falling further away with each drink and I liked it.
That's how I ended up here. In this dark room. The silence was deafening now, the street now a quiet stretch out of the pavement jungle that made up this city. This is not a story you have heard. It's not one you are used to hearing. It is the truth about my life, with no sugar coating. From here on out, it's probably just going to keep getting darker. If you are faint of heart, you may not want to hear it, but this is going to be the memoirs that outlive me. These will be the stories that you will read years from now when either I am gray and grey, or buried next to my family. I hope that you can handle it. If not, I understand. I wouldn't stick around for this either to be honest. But I am living it, so all I can do is write it down and hope that my words will be heard.
AN: I don't own The Walking Dead or any of its characters. Please leave me reviews on whether or not to continue.