I pulled myself up by my hands and clenched my fingers around the tight metal rail. Pulling myself over the slippery metal rail, I look down. Dark water, the stillness grabbed my attention. It was too easy to picture myself drowning in it. I thought about how I’d look from this view, if I was down there trying to fight for my life and giving up. Maybe it was suicide, maybe somebody pulled me from below.  Right as I was about to lift my other leg somebody grabbed my shoulder and I screamed when I saw who it was, someone I recognized too well.

I woke up with my long hair sticking to my sweaty body. That dream was as real as anything else in m life; I wanted to forget it, all of it. When I heard my sister, Alice, cry and scream I got up to check on her. I sighed as I went to her room. She had short blonde hair, like a bob and her hair was naturally curly so it actually looked cute, with bright blue eyes. She stared at me with her baby wonder and she stopped crying as soon as I touched her pale, soft arms to pick her up. I know what you’re wondering, why doesn't my mom come take care of calming her down. Well, my mom drinks all day and brings random guys home. She use to be different, the perfect mom. I walked around the room with my sister back and forth until she fell asleep. I never really noticed when she started drinking; it was just something you begin to notice after she was already mostly addicted.

I remembered a time where she would never drink. Not even celebratory wine after a promotion, or a toast to one of the few weddings I’ve been to with her. I can honestly say I’ve never remembered any kind of alcohol being in the house. 

I slowly set Alice down on the bed and looked at her for a few minutes before I kissed her forehead. She had started waking up in the middle of the night since we made the switch from a crib to a small bed. When I hear her breathing get softer; I climb onto the roof. The roof was where I could see everything at night. The lights of my high school shined brightly in the corner of this small town and I could see the Conner Bake Shop that I always loved to go to right across from it. 

This was my roof. The place I sat to get away from everyone, and usually they were too scared to climb up with me anyways. After a while I climbed off the roof and went to my room; I had to start getting ready for school.  Glancing at my phone to check the time, I realize I have to start getting ready. I walk over to my dresser and put on my skinny jeans and tied my converse up, then changed into my long sleeved t-shirt. As I was switching shirts I saw a curved puckered scar on the left side of my ribcage. 

I sighed loudly and closed my eyes it’s from mom’s boyfriends, no one else. Who else would touch me? Hurt me like this? I stand there for a few minutes, knowing I should start moving but feeling like I was on the brink of discovering something. Shaking it off, I grab my dark blue parka and my over the shoulder bag and went out the door quickly. I lived in a small almost nonexistent town that bordered New York. The weather was cold and if you mentioned the town name to somebody even a state away, they would say they had never heard of it before.  Everyone rode in their ten year old trucks with their heaters up. My mom can’t afford a car, and it’s not like I really want one. My long blonde hair kept me warm enough so I don’t have to wear a hat. 

I continued walking quickly, it kept me warm and I wanted to get there early so my teachers wouldn’t try to get all “teacher like” and think they have to yell at me for being two minutes late. The high school was big, about two stories and it had fields about the size of the school. I thought of why they made the school so big if there were only a few hundred kids going here as I went to my locker to grab my books. When I see Missy Blake I almost start walking the other way. Miss, I’m so popular watch me flip my blonde hair and chew gum at the same time. This was my high schools “queen bee” and the one to be afraid of. She has never left me alone since the first day of school. I see her staring at me, looking over my outfit like I wore a trash bag to school.

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