My history

Chapter 1


A brown haired teenager sat in the window looking out, crying slightly. She wished someone would care about her, love her, hug her. Her arms where the only arms to ever hug her, as they were now.

“Gordon, she’s your responsibility to! You should help me take care of her! I can’t bring Maria up by myself!” Sarah Thomson yelled at her husband, her voice rising up the stairs towards her daughter, brown haired Maria. Not even sixteen and her life has been nothing more then hated love, crying faces, and broken dishes.

“If you haven’t noticed, Sarah, I pay the bills! I pay for food the food that sits on the table. And all you do is sit home and watch your soap operas.” Gordon’s voice rose to a deep boom that shook the house. Oh how Maria wished she had a friend to run to instead of listening to the yelling and screeching.

“I take care of our daughter, she’s a teenager, Gordon, and hardly knows her father,” Maria felt the noticeable feeling of wishing she wasn’t born, maybe they would still love each other if she was never born and had a different daughter instead or a son, maybe. “She’s going through the toughest years of her life, and you’re off all the time on one business trip or another. It’s like you don’t even care at all about you daughter.”

“I care about my daughter; I’m trying to give her a good life, with beautiful things like all girls want!”

“I want you guys to stop fighting all the time!” Maria shouted towards the door. The silence was almost as hard to take as the yelling.

Slowly the stairs creaked as the came towards Maria’s attic room. Her parents were coming up to her, great. Yet again she would be getting the, ‘Sorry, darling, but sometimes parents fight when they are upset’ story again. The one she’s being getting every other night since she was five.

“Sweetie?” A knock came on the door, “Can we come in?”

“No, I don’t want to see either of you. I’m tired of you two fighting.” Maria’s voice was slightly slurred from tiredness.

Not listening to Maria, both parents came in. Maria’s mother, Sarah, still seemed to be crying, “Sorry, darling…”

“SHUT UP WITH THAT DAMN THING!” Maria was on her feet, “Yeah, some parents fight sometimes, you two, fight all the time! ALL THE FUCKING TIME!” Maria felt years of anger bubbling up, her mouth wasn’t going to stop yelling, “I’m sixteen and all I ever hear from you two are “you should help me take care of her,” “I pay the bills.” When are you two going to stop fighting? When are you going to let me be a normal teenager?” Maria cried standing up and walking over to her bed. Turning her back to her parents she whispered, “I wish you guys would get a divorce then I wouldn’t have to put up with how much of a problem I am.”

“You think that we should get a divorce?” her father’s voice came out in a weird croak.

“I think you guys should get a divorce, move to the opposite sides of the world, and leave me at an orphanage.” She growled, holding her teeth tightly together. She wished they would leave her room, she wanted so badly for them to leave her room for good.

“Sweetheart, you don’t really think that. You’re just mad.” Sarah cooed, placing her hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

“Don’t touch me.” Maria bent down and grabbed her spare backpack she kept under the bed. It held a little bit of food and blanket, meant for these types of days.

She through it over her shoulder and rushed passed her father, down the stairs, and stopped only briefly to put on her shoes before rushing out the door to the semi-silent street.

The sun had set along time ago and the only light was the street lamps and the ones coming from houses. The walk down the street with perfect trees that were just beginning to change to reds and yellows seemed the perfect way to cool off. The air seemed cool and crisp like it was back at her grandparents place.

The memories of the days of freedom and fun seemed so lost in the darkness of her life. The days of riding a horse bareback across fields of hay seemed so long ago. Cookies on the porch with her grandmother and lemonade stands with her cousin were the best memories she had.

She remembered her horse, Snowflame, as she walked under a red maple. She remembered the time when she and Snowflame seemed to fly across the country side down in New Orland’s, Maria’s brown hair flying back as her and the white horse rode along the roads.

She stopped at the corner of a street where the trees ended; showing the endless lights of the city, shattering the feeling of being back in New Orland’s backcountry. The bird songs weren’t heard over the cars driving by.

“Missy, what are you doing out this late. A girl like you could get hurt being out by yourself at this hour.” Maria turned around and saw an old lady looking at her off her little veranda, “Come, come.” The chubby lady added waving her hand towards Maria.

Forgetting her mother’s warnings about going to people’s house after dark she walked through a small white gate. She strolled down a cobble stone walk lined with flower gardens and little lawn gnomes. White roses bushes sat among the white picket fence that lined the path way.

“Would you like some cookies? Maybe a glass of lemonade?” The sweet old woman asked waving to a pitcher of Lemonade, extra glasses, and a plate of peanut butter cookies; her favorite type of cookies.

Grabbing a cookie she smiled, “Thank you, I love peanut butter cookies. My grandmother use to make them all the time before she disappeared.”

“Well, all us old ladies love to make cookies. My favorite to make is peanut butter, I love peanut butter. My grandbaby loved peanut butter but then she, my daughter, and my snotty son-in-law moved away. I haven’t seen her ever since.” There was a sad tone in the cheery grandmother’s voice before she said quickly, “Well my name is Anna Jackson, but most of my younger friends call me Baba. And your name is?”

“Maria Thomson. My grandmother’s name was Anna.”

“Well, Maria, it seems me and your grandmother had a lot in common.”

“Yeah, including the thought about your son-in-laws.” Maria smiled.

Anna laughed a happy grandmother laugh, “Well, sometimes we women get one idea about the man our daughters should marry and we won’t take any other kind.”

Maria smiled at Anna as the old woman began to tell her about her daughter. Her daughter seemed to be the perfect mother; fun, not fanatical with rules, completely unlike her mother.

“Well, she was at her worse when she was sixteen; she was snotty, mouthy, and getting into trouble with the law every other day. I was so fed up with her and her crime list I kicked her out of the house for a few days. Then when she was allowed back in the house she had started on weed or dope, whatever you kids call it these days. I couldn’t believe my own offspring had gone off like that. A complete nutcase to the bone. I was so upset with her I sent her straight off to rehab.”

“I bet she didn’t like that very much.” Maria laughed, it was nice to laugh.

“Oh, no, she was nearly yelling at me in every letter. And her father thought I was being too hard on her. But I wasn’t going to let that kind of girl live under my roof, but I couldn’t kick her out, she was my daughter and I loved her, no matter what she thought.”

They talked late into the night about many different things, ending with Anna letting Maria rant about her family life, her non-existent friendships, and her avalanches of homework.

“I hate my life. I sometimes really think I was meant to be born in a different century.” Maria curled her legs a little closer to her.

“Well, darling, maybe you could come over tomorrow, I could help with your homework, and you get away from your parents. And then afterwards I could start teaching you some things about the Renascence era so when the fair comes around this year we can both go and have a ton of fun.” Anna clapped her hands together.

“That would be cool.” Maria whispered grabbing her backpack off the porch, “I should get home. It was nice meeting you, Anna.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Maria.” She smiled getting up. She grabbed her cane and added, “I’ll walk you to the gate then you’re on your own.”

Maria and Anna walked towards the whitewash gate in silence; it was great for Maria’s soul to talk with someone. “Well, Maria, this is where I leave you. Get home safe.”

Maria smiled and wave and began the walk home. The sun shone just under the mountains, Maria was glad it was Sunday, she still had homework, but it would be easier to work in a place that didn’t have her nerves on fire.

Walking towards her home she watched people heading towards work. Silver punch bugs and black limos sped by on there way to snotty jobs. Walkers passed by her with out much care, people waited at the bus only gave her a slight look.

Heading up the cement steps to her house she looked back longingly, she already missed Anna, or Baba. She really wanted to go back to the little white house and talk with Anna; Maria really hated her house, her family, her school.

Taking the spare key from behind the plant pot she put it into the lock and turned it quietly. Opening the door cautiously she put her backpack down by the door and bent down to untie her shoes.

“Where have you been?” Maria looked up and saw her mother standing over her, arms crossed and in her bathrobe.

“Out.” The only answer she would give her mother when she was out trying to cool off. Only home for a few moments and her nerves where already tearing.

“Out where? Have you any idea how worried you made me and your father?”

“You worried about me? Yeah right, more like I would make you two look like bad parents if one of you snotty rich friends saw me selling myself on the street.” Maria grabbed her bag and looked at her mother, “You would never worry about me. Your TV shows and your friends are the only things that matter to you. I don’t. Not to you and not to dad.”

Maria headed up the stair to her room with her mother shouting after her. Slamming the door with all the strength she could muster she locked the door. Flopping onto her bed, sleep grabbed her like a slow moving rat.

Falling into a dream about living in the Renascence she saw a teenage boy with dirty blonde hair and a charming smile. She dreamed of waltzing with him in a large ball room with musicians playing away on their flutes and violins. Her dress spun around as he turned her softly on the floor before laying a soft kiss on her lips. A kiss that seemed to last forever on her lips, her eyes closed she felt his lips leave hers. Opening her eyes she found him walking away from her only turning to say, “Until tomorrow night, my beloved.”

“MARIA! GET UP!” her mother’s voice was right in her ear, “IT’S NEARLY NOON! IT’S TIME FOR YOU TO BE UP!”

“Arg.” Maria opened her eyes a crack and saw her room was flooded with sun light. She yanked the blankets over her head; ok, so her mother wasn’t shouting in her ear. But god be damned if she was going to get up.

“MARIA! LAST CALL BEFORE I COME UP!” her mother was on the bottom step.

“FINE! I’m getting up, jeezez.” Maria flipped off her covers and grumbled as she searched blindly trying to find a pair of jeans. She slipped on the jeans and a baggy t-shirt that read “Screw it”. Slowly moving towards the mirror she looked at herself. Her face seemed healthier then yesterday morning. It seems visiting Anna was good for her in more ways then one.

Dragging her feet down the stairs, she went straight to the coffee pot. Seeing it empty and in the sink she turned toward her mother, “WHERES THE CAFFINE?”

“Me and your father have decided until you learn to respect us you get no coffee.” She said drying a glass with a rag.

“You so are going about getting respect the wrong way.” She growled looking at her mother with rough eyes.

“And what would you suggest for us to get your respect? Letting us let you run around after dark until dawn in some god forsaken place? Or how about letting you sell your body on the street?”

“How about noticing me as a human with pretty good hearing? How about stop treating me like I’m three? I’m sixteen and you still shoving the bullshit theory of “Sorry, darling, sometimes parents fight when we get upset” down my throat.” She snarled.

“I don’t treat you like your three.”

“Yes you do. I have a curfew of nine o’clock; most teens my age have a curfew of being home by ten. Not being in bed by nine. You keep such a tight leash on me, it’s hard to breathe.” Maria whined grabbing her school bag and walking towards the door.

“Where are you going?” her mother stepped in front of the door keeping Maria from walking out.

“I’ll be back by eight; I’m just going to get some help with my homework.”

“I could help you.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want you to help. I’ve hard enough of your so called “helping” to last me a life time.” Her nerves burned, why did her mother have to treat her like she was five all the time?

Sarah looked at Maria, and Maria could have sworn that she saw sadness. Walking by her stunned mother she headed down the street she was sure she would be walking down many times.