(Disintegrating, I’m breaking away)
Then there was him, Mick the window cleaner, twenty-two with kids – at least that’s what I told them. Made sure I chose one with a beard, who looked the part, even invited him round for dinner. Told everyone about how he wouldn’t get any streaks in windows every time, that’s why he got so many cleaning jobs. Mick played along but was more confused than anyone else, not surprising really considering he was actually a drug dealer.
Before he left I made sure everyone knew we were together, just in case the holding hands was too vague. I heard the folks talking about it afterwards, I was thinking ‘My parents know, I’ve won. They’re going to have to rethink everything, its all going to be brand new. They’re going to have to stand up, accept my challenges. Discipline me. Love me.’ In the morning, the ‘ brand new’ morning, nothing happened. I smiled, ‘Bye Mum, bye Dad I’m going to school but I won’t be back till late, Mick’s taking me.’
Pause.
They looked at each other looked at me and waved, ‘Happy Birthday dear, have a good day and say high to Michael for us!’ I stepped out the house.
I was half way down the road when my mother caught up with me. ‘Your Father didn’t want to say anything but take this, it’s a big day for you.’ I didn’t open my hands till I reached school; I was so frightened to see what they had spent all night talking about. What was this thing that would turn everything right, make up for the years of mistreat and misguidance. I opened my hands. Durex, extra strong.
(Defeated, I gave up on everything)
That night I took LSD the next night I tried ecstasy, I had to try a range to make sure I looked the part. Even mixed sometimes, you know, to make sure I choose the right side effects.
Virtually every night before we’d go out, Mick and me would meet up in my room (of course I’m still with my parents). We’d get acquainted (first) before he places the small bag on the table and rest while I put together the line. I would skilfully mark out the words ‘help me’ and after that was funnelled ‘I’m dying’, then after that ‘just kidding.’
As time went by more people would join us; mostly Mick’s friends. I didn’t have many, any friends. I drifted like driftwood, from night to night, party to party, Tom, Dick to Harry; my parents still didn’t say anything.
Don’t feel sorry for me; please don’t be stunned though. I’m just an ordinary girl, another pupil or preferably a statistic. An alcoholic, a drug abuser, someone’s daughter and sometimes, just sometimes, a human being. I’m heading for a breakdown, I know it, I can sense it. I’m daring it to happen, like a stuntman on the telly that tries to leap twenty cars – the only difference? There’s no trial run, or rerun. I’m riding a second hand tricycle held together with a lose screw and if I fall, theirs no safety net, nothing to catch me. Hold me. No parents, no friends, no faith, just a transparent boyfriend who I know isn’t really there. He’ll fall through or I’ll fall through him.
I’m not sure at what point, I began to realise, well, started admitting to myself, that my name is Anna Smith, and I’m a delinquent.
