The Murder of Natalie Monroe

Chapter One: 8/15

Random thought #1: Most people seem to think I'm a popular girl.
I'm not and I don't wish I was.

Today is my last first day of High School. Some of my fellow peers may be sad to be experiencing it but not me it's because I can finally get out of this stupid cowtown! By this time next year I'll be in my apartment or dorm in Palo Alto getting ready for my classes at Stanford or whatever I may be doing. But most importantly it means I can get out of my mom's apartment. Things between me and my mom have been really rocky since I was about nine. 

 That's when my dad died. It was a rainy night and I was over at my best friend Henley's house, I got scared and called my dad to pick me up. His car swerved and hit a tree or a pole, they never told me what happened exactly.

. At first my mom grieved and held me in her arms and kept telling me that "Daddy will never come home" and that "We'll get through this". Then a few years later her grief turned to alcoholism and my spot in her arms was replaced by a wine bottle. After another year she started dating guy #1 aka Druggie G. I'm kidding his name was Greg but he was a drug dealer/landlord. He introduced my mom to drugs and since then life has been drugs and booze and that small child she had to care for but didn't because those things were more important. But since then my mother has hated me.

That sounded really mean.

Oh well. Fuck it this is my story.

It's true though. After she and Druggie G split (only because he was arrested for drug possession, drug dealing, running over a 16 year old girl, and kidnapping a 16 year old boy) my mom moved us to an apartment on the over side of our small town in new jersey  which meant the bad side of our town. I don't call it the bad part, everyone else does. Which is quite rude. I mean yes this is New Jersey and we have a bad rap but still this part of the town isn't that bad.  We've lived in the same apartment for about two years now and every time I walk through the door I hate it even more.

The place has one bedroom (which is mine only because my mom was drunk and somewhat delirious when we moved in and she threw all of my stuff in there shouting "get the hell in there and worship satan!" (yeah that actually happened) the bathroom is literally the size of a penny, there's mold every where, and there's rats in the walls. Fancy I know. But there is one good thing about this place, the fact that there's hardly any space for kitchenry and silverware! You're probably thinking "Sam, Why is that a good thing?" well you see about three years ago when I hit puberty I got really sarcastic and rude and my mom hated that I would talk to her like that so she would grab me by the wrist, pull me into the kitchen and slash a mark into my wrist.

Pretty messed up shit right? I know but luckily no one really pays me any attention so I didn't have to explain my wrists. Well there was that time with Henley but I lied and told him I cut myself making dinner. Henley has been my best friend since first grade, he was really over weight back then like a hundred pounds but during the summer before freshman year he lost all of it and got really built. He has dark red hair and smoky grey eyes. If I wasn't with my boyfriend then maybe I'd go with him. I love Henley to pieces but god he was gullible. The boy believed in Santa until Freshman year and only because I had to tell him that people would hurt him if he still believed. 

Speaking of Henley he's been texting me nonstop for the last twenty minutes so I better scoot my boot (something my dad would say, it makes no sense but what the hell! This is my book I'll do whatever I want!)