Poems
Goodbye From a Golden Bruise
I can’t do this anymore
I need to leave
To get out of my life
All the sparkling, pretty things in the world
Can’t make me want to stay
The bruises are apparent
On my mind and in my soul
I came to you a bright young mind
I’m leaving you as dull brilliance
It has stolen over my consciousness
The world was vibrant and alive
Now it’s bleak and somber
With you I gained hate and pain
For myself, for you
With you I lost everything
My mind, a life, respect
All I wanted was to be loved
What I got were bruises
I am the blunt side of a hammer
Used for striking innocence
You say this will hurt you
Bu all I see is anger
I’m walking away with nothing
Except my life
But really what is that worth now
Now I am used, and damaged
But even still I am leaving you
I am leaving you today
I am leaving you with nothing
Even less than my nothing
I Was Made For You...
You must know it when I look at you,
Have to feel it when we’re together.
Do you know that I adore you?
Can you feel it when I kiss you?
Our story’s in my heart,
And my words fail to express,
The feeling my eyes scream.
I love you! I love you!
Forever and always,
I was made for you.
To have and to hold,
Now I’m just waiting for the day....
I say I do.
I’ll promise to love and obey you,
If you’ll only do the same.
When the world turns its back I’ll remain.
I promise I’ll cherish you always.
I know it when you look at me,
I always feel it when I’m with you.
I love that you adore me,
And I can feel it in your sweet embrace.
I love you! I love you!
Forever and always,
I was made for you.
To have and to hold,
I’m just waiting for the day....
Is it in your heart?
Can I hear it in your words?
Do you show it when you move?
Can I see it plainly?
I’m waiting patiently for the day,
You call me yours,
For always.
I want to see that gleam in your eye,
Wait to feel that thrill.
A tiny circle,
That means never ending.
I love you! I love you!
Forever and always,
I was made for you.
To have and to hold,
Now I’m just waiting for the day....
And the world seems so big to me..
as i sit here thinking of all the things I must do
today, tomorrow and yesterday
I am overwhelmed
with the alarming urge to cower
in a small dark hole
no one will find me
no responsibility
it is now
in this moment
that the world seems so big to me..
My smile
My smile is a comfort,
It tells you I’m alright.
My smile is a lie,
I know what lies beneath.
My smile is a mask,
I wear it when I’m frightened.
My smile is a shield,
It saves me from my pain.
My smile is a shadow
And when I’m alone,
And it’s dark,
My smile is no more.
Blessed Be
All I want to hear is:
“I love you!”
But I know all you hear are the threats.
I’m scared for your safety,
Frightened for your life,
This violence is killing my slowly,
Eating me from inside!
The world is spinning ‘round me,
And I can’t catch my breath.
I can’t keep you safe from harm,
Can’t pull you from this hell!
Only want to make you happy,
And do what’s best for you.
I’ve got to let you choose,
Pick your own way through.
“Pick your battles.”
“Keep your friends close, your enemies closer.”
“Live and let live.”
And all tat other crap.
There’s a buzzing in your ears,
And it deafens you to the noise,
To the sound of my pleading voice!
And it’s your choice.
Near the Edge
I think I should say,
I’m a girl.
Why should that matter?
I don’t know.
But it does.
“Girls can’t fight.”
That’s the common thought among men.
But I want to destroy him,
I want to tear him apart.
Do you think I could?
They laugh at me when I make that suggestion,
Like it’s all just a joke!
I don’t think it’s funny.
I know what I’m capable of,
I know what I could do.
Don’t push me too far.
I’m already on the edge.
Paradise Awaits
Hear me when I scream for you.
Heed me when I ask,
For silence,
For tranquility,
For peace,
Don’t lose the strings you hold!
They lead to my soul.
If you do,
My voice you’ll lose forever in the crowd.
My eyes are open,
I can see the exit sign.
I’m heading for the door,
Follow my lead,
Paradise is waiting.
Solar Powered Flashlight
I have had it up to here with you.
With your quiet screaming,
And your controlling submission.
The world is so big,
Your mind so narrow.
Your absent gaze pierces my body
Like a fish on land.
Here I am beside you
Am I the only one in shadows?
It is as if I am a chameleon
And the room is blue
I want to be useful
Like wind powered cars
I want to live my life
But with you I am a solar powered flashlight
left in the dark
The world is my oyster
but I am no pearl
in your eyes
We are through my young love
A surprise I know
I was head over heels
now I'm flat on my back
I have to pick up the pieces
take out the trash
that's you my dear
I'm moving on
I'm leaving you here
To ponder your loss
While you cry no tears
Proud Insanity (unfinished)
In the eye of the storm
In the belly of the beast,
Inside.
Outside,
Pretty in the crimson light,
Jaded in the shadowy haze.
So tired of the organized chaos.
So tired of this slow beat.
No way out.
One step forward,
Two steps back.
Cut off my foot to buy a shoe
Wasted lives,
Lost lives,
Young lives.
Culture with no sense.
People with no minds.
Pockets over flowing, green eyes watch
While mouths lie gaping
Empty space,
Empty minds,
Empty lives.
Pretty people homes
With dark secrets
Dishonest honesty
True lies
And bullshit
Hateful love
Loving anger
Goodbye From a Golden Bruise
I can’t do this anymore
I need to leave
To get out of my life
All the sparkling, pretty things in the world
Can’t make me want to stay
The bruises are apparent
On my mind and in my soul
I came to you a bright young mind
I’m leaving you as dull brilliance
It has stolen over my consciousness
The world was vibrant and alive
Now it’s bleak and somber
With you I gained hate and pain
For myself, for you
With you I lost everything
My mind, a life, respect
All I wanted was to be loved
What I got were bruises
I am the blunt side of a hammer
Used for striking innocence
You say this will hurt you
Bu all I see is anger
I’m walking away with nothing
Except my life
But really what is that worth now
Now I am used, and damaged
But even still I am leaving you
I am leaving you today
I am leaving you with nothing
Even less than my nothing
I Was Made For You...
You must know it when I look at you,
Have to feel it when we’re together.
Do you know that I adore you?
Can you feel it when I kiss you?
Our story’s in my heart,
And my words fail to express,
The feeling my eyes scream.
I love you! I love you!
Forever and always,
I was made for you.
To have and to hold,
Now I’m just waiting for the day....
I say I do.
I’ll promise to love and obey you,
If you’ll only do the same.
When the world turns its back I’ll remain.
I promise I’ll cherish you always.
I know it when you look at me,
I always feel it when I’m with you.
I love that you adore me,
And I can feel it in your sweet embrace.
I love you! I love you!
Forever and always,
I was made for you.
To have and to hold,
I’m just waiting for the day....
Is it in your heart?
Can I hear it in your words?
Do you show it when you move?
Can I see it plainly?
I’m waiting patiently for the day,
You call me yours,
For always.
I want to see that gleam in your eye,
Wait to feel that thrill.
A tiny circle,
That means never ending.
I love you! I love you!
Forever and always,
I was made for you.
To have and to hold,
Now I’m just waiting for the day....
And the world seems so big to me..
as i sit here thinking of all the things I must do
today, tomorrow and yesterday
I am overwhelmed
with the alarming urge to cower
in a small dark hole
no one will find me
no responsibility
it is now
in this moment
that the world seems so big to me..
My smile
My smile is a comfort,
It tells you I’m alright.
My smile is a lie,
I know what lies beneath.
My smile is a mask,
I wear it when I’m frightened.
My smile is a shield,
It saves me from my pain.
My smile is a shadow
And when I’m alone,
And it’s dark,
My smile is no more.
Blessed Be
All I want to hear is:
“I love you!”
But I know all you hear are the threats.
I’m scared for your safety,
Frightened for your life,
This violence is killing my slowly,
Eating me from inside!
The world is spinning ‘round me,
And I can’t catch my breath.
I can’t keep you safe from harm,
Can’t pull you from this hell!
Only want to make you happy,
And do what’s best for you.
I’ve got to let you choose,
Pick your own way through.
“Pick your battles.”
“Keep your friends close, your enemies closer.”
“Live and let live.”
And all tat other crap.
There’s a buzzing in your ears,
And it deafens you to the noise,
To the sound of my pleading voice!
And it’s your choice.
Near the Edge
I think I should say,
I’m a girl.
Why should that matter?
I don’t know.
But it does.
“Girls can’t fight.”
That’s the common thought among men.
But I want to destroy him,
I want to tear him apart.
Do you think I could?
They laugh at me when I make that suggestion,
Like it’s all just a joke!
I don’t think it’s funny.
I know what I’m capable of,
I know what I could do.
Don’t push me too far.
I’m already on the edge.
Paradise Awaits
Hear me when I scream for you.
Heed me when I ask,
For silence,
For tranquility,
For peace,
Don’t lose the strings you hold!
They lead to my soul.
If you do,
My voice you’ll lose forever in the crowd.
My eyes are open,
I can see the exit sign.
I’m heading for the door,
Follow my lead,
Paradise is waiting.
Solar Powered Flashlight
I have had it up to here with you.
With your quiet screaming,
And your controlling submission.
The world is so big,
Your mind so narrow.
Your absent gaze pierces my body
Like a fish on land.
Here I am beside you
Am I the only one in shadows?
It is as if I am a chameleon
And the room is blue
I want to be useful
Like wind powered cars
I want to live my life
But with you I am a solar powered flashlight
left in the dark
The world is my oyster
but I am no pearl
in your eyes
We are through my young love
A surprise I know
I was head over heels
now I'm flat on my back
I have to pick up the pieces
take out the trash
that's you my dear
I'm moving on
I'm leaving you here
To ponder your loss
While you cry no tears
Proud Insanity (unfinished)
In the eye of the storm
In the belly of the beast,
Inside.
Outside,
Pretty in the crimson light,
Jaded in the shadowy haze.
So tired of the organized chaos.
So tired of this slow beat.
No way out.
One step forward,
Two steps back.
Cut off my foot to buy a shoe
Wasted lives,
Lost lives,
Young lives.
Culture with no sense.
People with no minds.
Pockets over flowing, green eyes watch
While mouths lie gaping
Empty space,
Empty minds,
Empty lives.
Pretty people homes
With dark secrets
Dishonest honesty
True lies
And bullshit
Hateful love
Loving anger
Stories
Secret Thoughts of a Troubled Mind
September 1, 2005
Dear Diary,
Things have been crazy so far for me. I guess you could say my life, as I see it, has been full of obstacles. Now life is moving forward with alarming speed. I’ve got university, a career and happiness ahead, but I’m getting ahead of my story. Let me go back to the beginning...at least when I first started keeping a diary.
1995
Age 8
Dear Diary;
Today was Christmas and I got a lot of very cool stuff. I got this diary for Christmas! Mommy bought it for me! Christmas is always good and bad, mom and dad Christmas is always good and bad, mom and dad always fight on Christmas. Bye!
I love a cute guy and his name is Joshua. (He doesn’t love me.) He is in my school, but not in my class. My cousin Emily is the only one who knows. See you! Bye!
My cousin Emily wouldn’t listen to me today and Nanny was snooping in my Diary, that wasn’t nice.
I love Emily as much as I love God, but no one can know.
1996
Age 8
Dear Diary,
For two days now I have stayed home with dad. We did a lot of the same stuff like watch TV and play monopoly. It’s driving me up the wall. At least mom isn’t here so they can’t fight.
The guy I love does not love me. I’ve loved him since grade one and I still love him. I don’t get to see him much but I won’t forget him! I want to go out, but I’m scared to ask. He’ll never like me. Bye!
Today was the big day; our choir was one of the best in the whole concert. The only thing that was bad about it was when mom and dad fought before the show.
1997
Age 9 - 10
Dear Diary,
Today was fun, I had Skye over. Why is it that I never feel like I fit in?
Now I’m ten. I got lots of things for my birthday but why is it that every birthday, every holiday mom and dad fight?
Today is the first day of Vacation Bible School. I hate it. I don’t really like God anymore. Mom’s making me go. She doesn’t know that I don’t like God. I don’t fit in with the other kids there.
I got fish from Tamara today, for my birthday.
I am so upset. My fish died. They were over-fed. It was an accident. Nick didn’t know that he shouldn’t feed them again. I cried almost all night long. Mom didn’t understand why it was such a big deal.
Sometimes I hate living here. Mom and dad don’t seem to realize that Nick cries every time they fight.
1997
Age 10
Dear Diary,
My cousin moved right down the road from me. Now I can run there when I need to get away from them. I can’t stand it sometimes.
The other day mom and dad started to fight again and at first I shut myself in my room, then I went to find my brother. I found him downstairs in the playroom, huddling under the counter, crying. I sat there with him and made him laugh. We must have been there for hours because when mom and dad finally stopped fighting it was supper time. Of course we didn’t eat supper until very late because they had to make it. Dad stormed away, angry again. Mom’s still sobbing in her room.
1998
Age 11
Dear Diary,
I can’t believe they fought on mom’s birthday and Valentines Day, which coincidentally are the same day.
1999
Age 12
Dear Diary,
Today was an interesting day. I’ll tell you about it. I wrote two songs today. I love to write. One is called Bad Day.
I had a babysitter last night. After I went to bed I waited and waited for mom to come home and when she did she came in and gave me a hug and a kiss and then I could sleep.
School was canceled and we had to stay home with dad. He’s already mad. We only played two games. I don’t know why he gets mad like that.
Dad told me I couldn’t sing today. I’ll never sing in front of anyone ever again. It hurt.
I have been introduced to Wicca from my friend Michelle. She is a Pagan. She wants to practice black magic though, I don’t. Why don’t I ever fit in with my friends? We made up a language today. She is always a little bit better than me at everything. She’s a better artist, she’s better looking, she’s stronger and she can dance better. The only thing I have is that I’m more flexible. Everyone’s stronger than I am.
I’m in French immersion in school now.
I met my best friend this year in school. Her name is Amanda Rose Butler.
I have a boyfriend. I’ve never seen him. His name is Todd. We have so many things in common.
I broke up with Todd. I’m thankful for that.
I have a new boyfriend. His name is Donald. I love him so much. When we’re not together it feels like a part of me is missing. Sometimes I think he doesn’t love me though. Sometimes I think I don’t love him.
I really love Donald but I don’t want to be made fun of. Oh well, I don’t care what people say, I’m going to make a vow right here and now:
I pledge to be true
I will not afraid to be with Donald.
I still don’t think I deserve to be loved by Donald.
2000
Age 13
Dear Diary,
He cheated on me with my best friend. Michelle kissed Donald. He cheated on me with my other best friend Amanda Pulsifer. We’re still together though. He says he still loves me. I don’t deserve his love.
This year I realized that life at home is not really a normal environment, nor is i a very safe place to be. I’m not sure I even like my father anymore. I still love him, but liking and loving are different. He hits my mom. He admitted it to me.
I was born on a Sunday at 10:44 in the morning. I was 7 lbs, 11 oz; a respectable weight for a newborn baby girl. I was a small little thing with an inch of black hair all over my tiny little head. Of course in the beginning my eyes were blue, but that didn’t last for long, soon enough my eye colour had changed to brown to match my parents.
It was August 9th, 1987 and the world was just stepping fully into the age of technology. My world, however, had just started. I had opened my eyes for the first time to see the people who would be responsible for the most important years of my life. I didn’t know them well enough to know that I should be somewhat horrified at the idea; I didn’t know their first names, hell I didn’t even know my name. I can’t be blamed for not jumping ship right then and there.
That brings me to my parents. What a trying environment they provided for me, and four years later, (three years and nine months if you ask him), when my brother was born, for him too. I cannot say, with any certainty, that if my parents hadn’t raised me in the environment that they did, that I would be who I am today. I cannot say that I wish I had grown up differently, because I don’t know the difference. There are of course certain experiences that I could have lived without; however that’s all in the past. My childhood shaped me into the person I am today.
Growing up, my brother and I learned exactly how not to act in a relationship. We were shown rather good examples of the “wrong thing” all the time. My parents, you see, haven’t always been the best of friends. There were many nights when I would wake up in the night to hear them fighting in the next room. Sometimes I could even hear things being thrown or smashed. This became normality in my life.
For the first five and a half years we lived in a small apartment in Wolfville, Nova Scotia. At first I had my own room, and for the first almost four years of my life, enjoyed the pleasures of being an only child. And then, Nick happened. One day my mom came home from work and announced that I was going to have a younger sibling. This was not welcome news to me. I felt that our family was large enough, my parents apparently thought differently. To make matters worse, they wanted the baby to be a boy.
Well they got their wish. On May 31st, 1991 at 6:45 at night, little baby Nicholas was born. Kicking and screaming the entire time. He came out loud, and he’s still loud. This little, fat, baby that reminded everyone so much of a Buddha statue began his life’s campaign to make me feel forgotten.
You see, in our family, boys were a novelty. My grandparents had three girls, their oldest had three girls, and then my mom, their second oldest had me, so when my brother was born everyone was just so thrilled that we finally had a boy in the family. Well everyone that is except me. A boy wasn’t anything to get excited over in my books. Boy, how that mentality would change over the years.
I can remember feeling rather left out when people came to visit. They all wanted to hear about Nick. “How’s the baby?” “My you’ve grown into such a big boy.” “You’re such a special little man” One does tend to get tired of hearing how wonderful ones siblings are. In later years, this jealousy would only get worse.
The years leading up to my school years were full of adventure. My best friend, Ashley MacDonald, and I used to explore the surrounding area with great vivacity. Many a time she and I would go off on some imagined journey and end up lost to the world. On one such occasion, Ashley and I had traipsed into the great unknown or the woods behind our apartment building, and found ourselves somewhere we didn’t recognize. We had been pretending that we were detectives of some sort detecting, invariably, something of the utmost importance. We walked without forward without a thought to direction, being that I was only four and she, five. Soon enough we found ourselves in a pickle. Not only did we not know where we were, we were also surrounded by mud. Not like mud puddle mud, but the kind of mud that sucks the shoes right off your feet. I panicked. Inwardly, I panicked. I could hear my father calling out my name, as my mom and dad were engaged in a search to locate us, however, I remained silent. I knew that we had done something naughty, and thought that the best plan was to not let them know where we were. If they couldn’t find us, they couldn’t punish us. When my dad found me, both my shoes were covered up to the ankle in mud. He was so relieved in that moment, that he couldn’t be angry. He pulled me out of the mud and carried me home, with Ashley following right behind. I lost a pair of shoes that day.
I remember starting school. The first day for a lot of kids is hard to get through. They miss their mommies’ or they miss their daddies’. Not me. I was used to not seeing my mom or dad all day. I’d been in daycare since I was three months old. My mom dropped me off that first day and I hardly gave a wave over my shoulder as I ran to make new friends and explore the world of learning. A few big accomplishments were made that year; I learned to read, I made a new best friend and I took an even bigger step into the independent mentality that would forever plague my being. Reading was something that proved to be quite crucial to my survival.
Skye Butler was my first friend when I started school. She and I would spend hours just pretending we were somewhere else, or someone else. She was a pilot, while I was a detective. Or perhaps she was a doctor while I was a spy. When we first met I was but five years old.
She and I, we were real trouble makers. One day we were both especially bored with our lunch menus, and decided we would do something about it. She had a fried baloney sandwich, an apple and a juice box; I had a sandwich, an apple, a juice box and a piece of my brother’s first birthday cake. I really wanted to eat that birthday cake. It was chocolate cake with chocolate icing, but that was not in the cards that day.
She thought that just flushing the contents of our lunchboxes down the toilet would be an easy way to rid us of such tedium. We went to the girls’ bathroom, and we each entered a stall. First I put the apple in, then the juice box and the sandwich. In the next stall over, Skye did the same. She came over to me and saw that I hadn’t put in my cake yet and told me that I had to. With great hesitation I dumped my precious cake into the toilet bowl, saying goodbye forever to the sweet chocolaty goodness. She ran over to her stall and on three we flushed. The door to my stall had been locked when I flushed, and when the water began to poor out over the toilet bowl, I panicked. Unlocking that bathroom door seemed to me to be the hardest thing in the world. When finally I got the door open, Skye and I made a run for it. Not only were we running from the scene of the crime, we were trying to outrun the crime. The water seemed to be swallowing the entire bathroom floor.
The trouble with being a rebel is that pesky conscience. Later that day I felt so guilty that I had to tell the custodian. I told him that the bathroom was flooded. I told him it was all my fault. Skye and I had to help clean up the bathroom. To this day I am afraid to flush the toilet when the door is closed.
Dear Diary,
Things have been crazy so far for me. I guess you could say my life, as I see it, has been full of obstacles. Now life is moving forward with alarming speed. I’ve got university, a career and happiness ahead, but I’m getting ahead of my story. Let me go back to the beginning...at least when I first started keeping a diary.
1995
Age 8
Dear Diary;
Today was Christmas and I got a lot of very cool stuff. I got this diary for Christmas! Mommy bought it for me! Christmas is always good and bad, mom and dad Christmas is always good and bad, mom and dad always fight on Christmas. Bye!
I love a cute guy and his name is Joshua. (He doesn’t love me.) He is in my school, but not in my class. My cousin Emily is the only one who knows. See you! Bye!
My cousin Emily wouldn’t listen to me today and Nanny was snooping in my Diary, that wasn’t nice.
I love Emily as much as I love God, but no one can know.
1996
Age 8
Dear Diary,
For two days now I have stayed home with dad. We did a lot of the same stuff like watch TV and play monopoly. It’s driving me up the wall. At least mom isn’t here so they can’t fight.
The guy I love does not love me. I’ve loved him since grade one and I still love him. I don’t get to see him much but I won’t forget him! I want to go out, but I’m scared to ask. He’ll never like me. Bye!
Today was the big day; our choir was one of the best in the whole concert. The only thing that was bad about it was when mom and dad fought before the show.
1997
Age 9 - 10
Dear Diary,
Today was fun, I had Skye over. Why is it that I never feel like I fit in?
Now I’m ten. I got lots of things for my birthday but why is it that every birthday, every holiday mom and dad fight?
Today is the first day of Vacation Bible School. I hate it. I don’t really like God anymore. Mom’s making me go. She doesn’t know that I don’t like God. I don’t fit in with the other kids there.
I got fish from Tamara today, for my birthday.
I am so upset. My fish died. They were over-fed. It was an accident. Nick didn’t know that he shouldn’t feed them again. I cried almost all night long. Mom didn’t understand why it was such a big deal.
Sometimes I hate living here. Mom and dad don’t seem to realize that Nick cries every time they fight.
1997
Age 10
Dear Diary,
My cousin moved right down the road from me. Now I can run there when I need to get away from them. I can’t stand it sometimes.
The other day mom and dad started to fight again and at first I shut myself in my room, then I went to find my brother. I found him downstairs in the playroom, huddling under the counter, crying. I sat there with him and made him laugh. We must have been there for hours because when mom and dad finally stopped fighting it was supper time. Of course we didn’t eat supper until very late because they had to make it. Dad stormed away, angry again. Mom’s still sobbing in her room.
1998
Age 11
Dear Diary,
I can’t believe they fought on mom’s birthday and Valentines Day, which coincidentally are the same day.
1999
Age 12
Dear Diary,
Today was an interesting day. I’ll tell you about it. I wrote two songs today. I love to write. One is called Bad Day.
I had a babysitter last night. After I went to bed I waited and waited for mom to come home and when she did she came in and gave me a hug and a kiss and then I could sleep.
School was canceled and we had to stay home with dad. He’s already mad. We only played two games. I don’t know why he gets mad like that.
Dad told me I couldn’t sing today. I’ll never sing in front of anyone ever again. It hurt.
I have been introduced to Wicca from my friend Michelle. She is a Pagan. She wants to practice black magic though, I don’t. Why don’t I ever fit in with my friends? We made up a language today. She is always a little bit better than me at everything. She’s a better artist, she’s better looking, she’s stronger and she can dance better. The only thing I have is that I’m more flexible. Everyone’s stronger than I am.
I’m in French immersion in school now.
I met my best friend this year in school. Her name is Amanda Rose Butler.
I have a boyfriend. I’ve never seen him. His name is Todd. We have so many things in common.
I broke up with Todd. I’m thankful for that.
I have a new boyfriend. His name is Donald. I love him so much. When we’re not together it feels like a part of me is missing. Sometimes I think he doesn’t love me though. Sometimes I think I don’t love him.
I really love Donald but I don’t want to be made fun of. Oh well, I don’t care what people say, I’m going to make a vow right here and now:
I pledge to be true
I will not afraid to be with Donald.
I still don’t think I deserve to be loved by Donald.
2000
Age 13
Dear Diary,
He cheated on me with my best friend. Michelle kissed Donald. He cheated on me with my other best friend Amanda Pulsifer. We’re still together though. He says he still loves me. I don’t deserve his love.
This year I realized that life at home is not really a normal environment, nor is i a very safe place to be. I’m not sure I even like my father anymore. I still love him, but liking and loving are different. He hits my mom. He admitted it to me.
Secret Thoughts of a Troubled Mind
I was born on a Sunday at 10:44 in the morning. I was 7 lbs, 11 oz; a respectable weight for a newborn baby girl. I was a small little thing with an inch of black hair all over my tiny little head. Of course in the beginning my eyes were blue, but that didn’t last for long, soon enough my eye colour had changed to brown to match my parents.
It was August 9th, 1987 and the world was just stepping fully into the age of technology. My world, however, had just started. I had opened my eyes for the first time to see the people who would be responsible for the most important years of my life. I didn’t know them well enough to know that I should be somewhat horrified at the idea; I didn’t know their first names, hell I didn’t even know my name. I can’t be blamed for not jumping ship right then and there.
That brings me to my parents. What a trying environment they provided for me, and four years later, (three years and nine months if you ask him), when my brother was born, for him too. I cannot say, with any certainty, that if my parents hadn’t raised me in the environment that they did, that I would be who I am today. I cannot say that I wish I had grown up differently, because I don’t know the difference. There are of course certain experiences that I could have lived without; however that’s all in the past. My childhood shaped me into the person I am today.
Growing up, my brother and I learned exactly how not to act in a relationship. We were shown rather good examples of the “wrong thing” all the time. My parents, you see, haven’t always been the best of friends. There were many nights when I would wake up in the night to hear them fighting in the next room. Sometimes I could even hear things being thrown or smashed. This became normality in my life.
For the first five and a half years we lived in a small apartment in Wolfville, Nova Scotia. At first I had my own room, and for the first almost four years of my life, enjoyed the pleasures of being an only child. And then, Nick happened. One day my mom came home from work and announced that I was going to have a younger sibling. This was not welcome news to me. I felt that our family was large enough, my parents apparently thought differently. To make matters worse, they wanted the baby to be a boy.
Well they got their wish. On May 31st, 1991 at 6:45 at night, little baby Nicholas was born. Kicking and screaming the entire time. He came out loud, and he’s still loud. This little, fat, baby that reminded everyone so much of a Buddha statue began his life’s campaign to make me feel forgotten.
You see, in our family, boys were a novelty. My grandparents had three girls, their oldest had three girls, and then my mom, their second oldest had me, so when my brother was born everyone was just so thrilled that we finally had a boy in the family. Well everyone that is except me. A boy wasn’t anything to get excited over in my books. Boy, how that mentality would change over the years.
I can remember feeling rather left out when people came to visit. They all wanted to hear about Nick. “How’s the baby?” “My you’ve grown into such a big boy.” “You’re such a special little man” One does tend to get tired of hearing how wonderful ones siblings are. In later years, this jealousy would only get worse.
The years leading up to my school years were full of adventure. My best friend, Ashley MacDonald, and I used to explore the surrounding area with great vivacity. Many a time she and I would go off on some imagined journey and end up lost to the world. On one such occasion, Ashley and I had traipsed into the great unknown or the woods behind our apartment building, and found ourselves somewhere we didn’t recognize. We had been pretending that we were detectives of some sort detecting, invariably, something of the utmost importance. We walked without forward without a thought to direction, being that I was only four and she, five. Soon enough we found ourselves in a pickle. Not only did we not know where we were, we were also surrounded by mud. Not like mud puddle mud, but the kind of mud that sucks the shoes right off your feet. I panicked. Inwardly, I panicked. I could hear my father calling out my name, as my mom and dad were engaged in a search to locate us, however, I remained silent. I knew that we had done something naughty, and thought that the best plan was to not let them know where we were. If they couldn’t find us, they couldn’t punish us. When my dad found me, both my shoes were covered up to the ankle in mud. He was so relieved in that moment, that he couldn’t be angry. He pulled me out of the mud and carried me home, with Ashley following right behind. I lost a pair of shoes that day.
I remember starting school. The first day for a lot of kids is hard to get through. They miss their mommies’ or they miss their daddies’. Not me. I was used to not seeing my mom or dad all day. I’d been in daycare since I was three months old. My mom dropped me off that first day and I hardly gave a wave over my shoulder as I ran to make new friends and explore the world of learning. A few big accomplishments were made that year; I learned to read, I made a new best friend and I took an even bigger step into the independent mentality that would forever plague my being. Reading was something that proved to be quite crucial to my survival.
Skye Butler was my first friend when I started school. She and I would spend hours just pretending we were somewhere else, or someone else. She was a pilot, while I was a detective. Or perhaps she was a doctor while I was a spy. When we first met I was but five years old.
She and I, we were real trouble makers. One day we were both especially bored with our lunch menus, and decided we would do something about it. She had a fried baloney sandwich, an apple and a juice box; I had a sandwich, an apple, a juice box and a piece of my brother’s first birthday cake. I really wanted to eat that birthday cake. It was chocolate cake with chocolate icing, but that was not in the cards that day.
She thought that just flushing the contents of our lunchboxes down the toilet would be an easy way to rid us of such tedium. We went to the girls’ bathroom, and we each entered a stall. First I put the apple in, then the juice box and the sandwich. In the next stall over, Skye did the same. She came over to me and saw that I hadn’t put in my cake yet and told me that I had to. With great hesitation I dumped my precious cake into the toilet bowl, saying goodbye forever to the sweet chocolaty goodness. She ran over to her stall and on three we flushed. The door to my stall had been locked when I flushed, and when the water began to poor out over the toilet bowl, I panicked. Unlocking that bathroom door seemed to me to be the hardest thing in the world. When finally I got the door open, Skye and I made a run for it. Not only were we running from the scene of the crime, we were trying to outrun the crime. The water seemed to be swallowing the entire bathroom floor.
The trouble with being a rebel is that pesky conscience. Later that day I felt so guilty that I had to tell the custodian. I told him that the bathroom was flooded. I told him it was all my fault. Skye and I had to help clean up the bathroom. To this day I am afraid to flush the toilet when the door is closed.
