The Girl Who Needed More Than Hope

Her Face Was As Red As The Womens Lipstick

It all started when I was 5, my parents had gotten a divorce. Which now that I think about it it's no surprise that they did. My father liked younger Barbie dolls who were in his college class. My mother would get drunk because of her depression which started after my older sister had died in a car accident. Okay okay I know you might be thinking "how can a 5 year old understand all of that at a young age?" Well I didn't really understand it until I was about 8 years old. I just knew what went on around me at 5 years old, very vaguely. I just knew when mom was mad because of her being drunk I would go to my room and lock my door. I also knew about my fathers obsession for other women that weren't my mother when I walked into my parents room when I saw a naked women getting dressed, let's just say it was a horrifying sight. Once my father saw me he said his student needed "tutoring". Of course at that age I would believe anything and wouldn't suspect a thing.

My sister died when I was 3, she was 17 when she had gotten into a car accident. I was to young to actually remember her but from the pictures I see of her she looked very pretty. Still to this day my parents don't like talking about her. They will usually change the subject or ignore if someone brings her up. My parents don't know that I know how she died they just told me she had gotten into a car accident, which was true but she purposely killed herself because she was bullied by some kids in her grade. I found out this in her journal with all the other things that were stored in the garage.

Fast forward ten years later to the present. I live with my aunt due to my parents parenting conditions. I like my aunt she's like a mother I never had which is true since my mother treated me like shit and didn't pay attention to me. Even though my aunt, Katherine, suggests I should talk to my mom and dad I won't, it's not like I don't forgive them for treating and raising me like shit its just I don't want them in my life. She understands that but occasionally she will slip it into conversation.
"Hope, can you help me with these boxes?" Aunt Katherine shouted from the moving van. I walked out of our old house which was quite small and headed toward the moving van. As I walked to the van I thought of what she called me, Hope. I smiled at the thought of it. Hope isn't my first name its my middle. My first name is Rain but she calls me Hope because she thinks I need hope in life. She has called me Hope ever since I moved in, which it doesn't bother me that she does call me that.

"Are you excited for the move?" Katherine says with excitement.

I answer her with a simple "yes". We were moving to Oregon which is quite far from Maine. It's about 2,484 miles from home. I'm honestly glad that we're moving I hate it here in Maine. The cold and the amount of French people that come here from Quebec is quite irritating. The one thing I hate that is here is the amount of lobster and lobster farms. I will always hate lobster ever since I got snapped by one I've always hated them ever since then.

It was a long drive to Oregon, yes flying would be a waste of money but it would have been a much shorter trip. Once we arrived at our new house the moving van was already there. Our new house was quite big for the two of us and it was near the beach. Katherine and I got out of her little Honda Accord and started to unload everything from the two vehicles. I carried a box into the new house and I looked around, it was so big. I set the box down and ran up the curved steps that would join with the other set of curved steps at the top. I went into a room that was somewhat big and had a balcony. The view was extraordinary. It looked like I was in a condo, a really nice condo. I walked out of the room and went into another room and it was about the same size but didn't have a door that led to a balcony. Both rooms had a decent size walk in closets and a full bathroom. I was in amazement, this was the house of anyone's dreams.

As I walked back downstairs to help unload my aunt Katherine is already on her box from the moving van. I went to the car and grabbed the rest of the boxes that were in there. Once I came back in with some boxes Aunt Katherine asks, "So what do you think?"