Page 1 of Accepting Fate

Prologue

July1st,my18thbirthday, was the second worst day of my life. It was also the last time I would ever walk into my childhood home.

Looking back, I should have expected it. My life hadn’t been sunshine and rainbows for years, so I should have seen the catastrophic bomb making its way toward me, with its sole purpose to make my life even shittier than it already was.

Walking into my house that day, I knew in my gut that things weren’t right. But I was crossing my fingers that Mom was having a good day, which was rare because her mood changed like the hours on the clock.

I should have listened to the nagging voice in my head that was telling me something was seriously fucking wrong. But I didn’t because, like most eighteen-year-olds on their birthday, I was ready to celebrate being an adult.

Instead, I was greeted by my mother laying down in the living room. The same living room where we’d watched our favorite movie the night before. She was on the same couch we snuggled up together and watched way too much reality television when she was happy. Except this time, she wasn’t laughing at something some daytime television host was saying. This time, she was staring up at the ceiling. Her piercing green eyes were the same shade as mine, but the only difference was that mine were unable to grasp what was in front of me and hers were hazy.

I can’t even remember how many nights I wished for her to wake up and see what was going on around us. But unfortunately, she never got the chance. Her eyes weren’t hazy because of the copious amount of alcohol she consumed on a regular basis; it was because all of the life had been drained out of her.

Her arm hung over the side of the couch, prominently displaying her deeply cut wrist. The silence was so loud that my ears screamed in pain as I listened to the slow drip of blood hitting the wood floor beneath her.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

And then I saw the note she left me:

I’m sorry. Mike will take care of you now. I love you. –Mom

My blood ran cold and a shiver rolled up my spine as I read the words over and over again. Apparently, my mom had left me alone in this world with nothing but a note and my stepfather, Mike. We were so close. Why couldn’t she just hold on a little bit longer?

The two weren’t shy about their love that turned to hatred. If it wasn’t the screaming that gave it away, it was the bruises that marked her pale skin like a checkerboard. I like to think that, while lost in her own battles, her mind and body didn’t allow her to see what he was also doing to me. And now she never will.

At the time, I didn’t see the full picture because she was gone. I wanted answers but I knew I needed to be alive to get them. So, I gathered what I could and never looked back. I’m what some would call a runaway, I was barely a legal adult when I left my hometown. Looking back on that awful day, I think the higher powers were watching out for me. Because if I hadn’t just turned eighteen, I wouldn't have been able to get away.

I can’t even think about what would have happened if I hadn’t escaped. Just the thought of being trapped in that house with that man sends me into a panic attack so bad that I have to take one of those dreaded pills. The ones that make me feel like I'm outside of my body and make my brain feel fuzzy. I hate them but they are sometimes the only thing that helps me calm down.

Growing up in upstate New York with my family was no easy task. It's not like I didn't have access to food or shelter. I always had the basics. It was just my mom and the men she brought around that made it miserable.

I like to pretend that I can somehow forget what happened that awful day. But it's extremely hard to erase the image of walking into your house, hoping your mom is having a good day, excited to celebrate with you – only to find her dead on the living room couch. Her wrist was cut and her blood dripping off the sides of the couch onto the wooden floor, the sound of life draining out of her and echoing throughout the deathly quiet house.

That’s not something you can easily expunge from your memory, unfortunately.

I’m still shocked when I think back to how I got out of there so quickly, but after reading the note, my body went into immediate survival mode. Something about it didn’t sit right and I wasn’t going to stick around to find out.

I wish I could say Mom just had a bad radar when it came to men, but I can’t. They all started out great and were experts at hiding their true selves. Exhibit A: Me.

Mom met a guy one night while she was working at a tavern. He sat with her all night and then they both decided to blow off some steam. A couple of weeks later, she found out she was pregnant with me. I don't know if she never found him or if he just didn't care to show up. But any time I asked, she would brush it off and change the subject. To this day, I still don't know who my dad is but with her track record, I’d rather not.

I would have possibly stuck around to see that she had a proper funeral, even if it was just me who would have been there, but that one piece in the note had me running for the hills.

Mike will take care of you.

Not to speak ill of the dead, but that was a bunch of bullshit.

The only thing that man knew how to do was beat on people smaller than him and make me feel really uncomfortable. I don’t think that man had an ounce of love in his entire body.

Luckily, he wasn’t home so my escape was almost effortless.

After a few days on the road, I settled in Alabama. It wasn’t easy. I lived in my car for months while working at a diner, until school started and I was eligible for on-campus housing. I attended a year of community college before I was accepted into the University of Alabama nursing program. That’s where I met Allie, my roommate turned best friend and someone that I will be eternally grateful for.

We bonded and became like sisters. Even her family took my guarded, stubborn self into their home and didn’t think twice about it. For the first time in a long time, I finally felt as normal as I could. The demons of my past still lurked in the shadows, but I was determined to not let my mother's death ruin my life.

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