Page 1 of Jagged Edges

One

Mellow and essentially mild,the sound ofFade Awayby Lucky Daye had me wishing I could. Wishing I would. Wishing it was at all possible. But, it wasn’t. So, under the dewy string lights of my Volkswagencamper, I rested my eyes and enjoyed the slight breeze the hills of Huffington offered. It was, unfortunately, all that I had in reference to coolness at the moment and I didn’t take any of it for granted.

The late-night air was crisp, and the critters of the night had begun tunes of their own, serving as background music for what I was already enjoying. Nature, while many hated it - including me for so long - in the last year, I’d grown to accept it. Love it. Cherish it. Appreciate it. No matter who or what faded in the distance with life’s courses and obstacles, it remained constant.It remained true, remained itself regardless of whatever. Nature had become the finest form of stability for me and for that I was thankful.

Twenty.

The number had been resurfacing for the last few weeks as I inched closer and closer to the day that I came into this world. With my mom alone, sweaty, and crying from the severity of the tearing my ten-pound body had caused her one-twenty frame, I cried, too. She’d told the story so many times that I wouldn’t ever be able to forget it. She’d told it so many times that I’d begun to believe that my tiny, confused brain could comprehend what was going on. She’d told it so many times that I truly believed I remembered the day like it was yesterday.

But it wasn’t.

Twenty.

It was almost twenty years ago. In two weeks, exactly. While everyone I knew - far and wide - was counting down the days until their next birthday, I was still searching for a reason to celebrate mine. Over the years, it had become the one day of the year that I hated most. And, not for nothing, either. I’d been taught to and my urge to unlearn wasn’t as urgent as I’d imagined it would be at this moment.

Twenty.

Twenty years old with absolutely nothing to show for it. No college courses. No associates degree loading. No wild summer vacations. No flings. No new apartment. No business. And, barely a job. The only thing I truly had to show for it was the clunker with enough space to stretch my legs after a long day of cleaning dishes at the soup kitchen that I’d paid $500 for at an estate sale over a year ago. As much as I wanted to hate it, I loved the security it provided me with and the hard work I’d put into making that happen.

It was mine. And, besides the few possessions that it was able to hold, I had nothing else in this world. This…clunkerwas home and had been since the day I had it towed to the nearest mechanic shop after purchasing it. I’d saved up a little over one thousand dollars when my mother finally stood behind her word and kicked me out square on my ass at eighteen and a half with nowhere to go and nothing valuable to hold onto.

Since I could remember, she’d promised to kick me out of her house the minute I turned eighteen. On the day of my eighteenth birthday, I held my breath, waiting for it to happen. Each day after, I expected to find the locks changed and my belongings sitting on the porch when I came home from school. Thankfully, it never happened. In fact, school was the reason why.

Because I had a late birthday, I was an entire year behind everyone else born in the same year with birthdays that met the school’s deadline. I’d hated that minor detail of my birthday too until it became my saving grace. ‘I’m kicking you out when you turn eighteen,’ quickly transformed into ‘once you graduate high school’after I reachedadulthood.

Had I been an unruly teen or trouble at all, I’d understand my mom’s logic, but that wasn’t the case. I was simply her greatest mistake, one she still hadn’t made amends with herself for. My creation was supposed to be the keeper of my father, but her plans quickly backfired once my incubation was revealed.

The day my mother broke the news to my dad, he disappeared. During her entire pregnancy, my mom held onto hope that he’d return and we’d be a happy family. Once she realized he wouldn’t, the resentment started. I’d gone from her greatest gift to her greatest enemy in a matter of years. While she wasn’t necessarily evil to me, she simply stopped giving a damn about me. From the age of fourteen - when I was old enough to get a job - I was on my own.

Twenty.

Lucky Daye faded as the sound of trumpets roared. Ari Lenoxx had done a number withChicago Boy. Her soulfulness raised the hair on my arms, sending chills down my spine. Gifted, she was. Just like me, she was finding herself -finding her stride- and I believed it was the reason her music spoke to me so clearly.

Exhaustion began tugging at every inch of me as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I was long overdue for a good night’s rest, but I refused to call it a night without securing my van. The windows had to come down, doors needed to be airtight, and each glass needed to be covered. It was the only way I’d get through the night without opening my eyes every few minutes or jumping up from my sleep in panic throughout the night.

Though I was in a great location and surrounded by campers - big, small, old, and new - it didn’t make much of a difference to me. I was still out here on my own. The taser I’d purchased from an old classmate wouldn’t do any good if the intruder was quick enough. So, instead of giving anyone access to the inside of my van, willingly, I shut it down,completely.

Ping.

My cell chimed as I tossed my feet over the edge of the day bed, which happened to be more comfortable than any bed I’d graced in my entire life. It had cost a fortune but it was well worth it. I’d learned along the way that in my predicament, cheaper was never better. I needed things that were sustainable and would last for years on end being that I used them more often than they were possibly designed to be used.

Massaging my eyes, I allowed them to adjust to the brightness of my cell phone screen before releasing them. I quickly pulled the right corner down to adjust the screen to my liking before accessing the thread of messages containing various people that I interacted with over the last few weeks. There weren’t many. The life of a loner was one that I preferred.

Melonie: Hey, where are you. Did you forget my mom’s 50th, babe?

My heart drummed in my chest at the realization that Mrs. Frank’s 50th birthday celebration was tonight. Melonie had reminded me constantly over the last few weeks, but just like everything else, it slipped my mind, too. Springing to my feet, I stretched my body until my head slammed against the roof.

“Crap!” I cringed, rubbing the back of my head to nurse the fresh ding I’d just given it. Without a second thought, I eased back onto the bed and thought about my reply. Melonie was counting on me to be with her, helping her maintain the guest and play hostess.

Sorry, Mel. Admittedly, I did. So much going on in this head of mine, lately. Give me 25 minutes and I will be at the back door. I’ll need to freshen up and change clothes when I get there.

Melonie: Ok. Bring a change of clothes inside. We can make it a girl’s night once everyone leaves.

Thanks.

She knew. In fact, she was the only person in my social circle - which only included one other person - who knew. She was aware of the fact that my mom was as heartless as they came and had forced her daughter into survival mode from the day that she turned fourteen. Every chance she got and every chance that I allowed it, she helped. If it wasn’t her mother’s basement that she allowed me to stay for a couple of days, it was her computer and Wi-Fi she offered for me to continue my job search.

Melonie: Don’t mention it, babe. Like… ever.

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