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It's been three days since graduation

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It's been three days since graduation. I have a countdown as to how many days left until move in day and today we're down to 53 days. It seems like a lifetime away. How am I going to get through the whole summer with the growing anticipation of moving away for school? The university of Arizona was so close, yet so far. All I've ever dreamed of was getting away from this town, away from my mother, away from Gavin and all the awful memories this town houses for me.

    The only group of people that probably even care that I exist are the Ramirez family. For thirteen years Erin Ramirez has been my pseudo mom, since my own mother can't stay sober long enough to help me out from time to time. She has picked up so many of my cracked pieces and glued them back together, as has the rest of the family, treating me like one of their own... and for that I owe them my life.

    Besides for them, I feel trapped here in Scottsdale. Trapped saving my drunk of a mother, trapped in this abusive mind fuck of a relationship with Gavin, and trapped in my own god damn head 99% of the time.

I have so many goals and ambitions, I just have to get away so I can achieve them. Start over, start fresh and new. Maybe even reinvent myself. Charlie Ramsay, who? And U of A is my chance to do just that. To get away, just far enough where no one knows who the hell I am. I can be Jane Doe. Hell, I could even be Marilyn Monroe reincarnated. I laugh at the thought.

    I sit up in bed now, the constant flood of thoughts making it hard for me to fall back asleep. I look over at my bedside table to where my alarm clock is positioned towards me. The digital numbers reading 7 am. "Three days into summer vacation and I can't even sleep in." I groan. "You're a loser Charlie." I reach my arms over my head, crossing them as I stretch, hearing a few cracks here and there.

"Aren't you going to school today?" My mother mumbles from her spot in the breakfast nook

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"Aren't you going to school today?" My mother mumbles from her spot in the breakfast nook. She's cradling a cup of coffee in a pair of shaky hands, her head bowed, and eyes shut warding off the early morning sun. I take in the sight of her and grab a paper towel from the dispenser, setting it under her hands to catch any spills before returning to the counter to make myself a cup.

I drop down across from her, studying her over my steaming cup. "It's summer vacation. Graduation was three days ago, I even marked it on your calendar." Not that a simple gesture like that would make her remember such an important day.

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