Not in the house, I was aware of what was happening in the house, I meant in my life. What was happening in my life?
I let things get so out of control.
I shouldn’t have moved away.
I should have just stayed in Denver with the nannies who cared about me, with the big house that always felt so empty, and the parents who forgot I existed at all.
I should have stayed in the city filled with more noise than The Springs. Where we had a gardener who came every day just tomake sure the roses were picked.
I always loved roses.
Nobody ever got me roses.
I never even planted any on my balcony like I swore I would do once I left my house. My own little rose bush. Red ones too. Not pastel yellow or that pink color, even though I did like the color pink, no, they would have been red.
There was a fountain in front of my house in Denver. A big one. One with three angels, all naked, wings spread, reaching out to touch the sky.
I used to sit on the edge of that fountain in the middle of the night and look up to the angel closest to the heavens, and I always wondered where they were trying to go. Home, I guessed. They realized this world wasn’t big enough for them.
It was too small.
That’s how I always felt.
Too small.
My phone started ringing, bringing me out of my stupor. The woman had been talking, but I didn’t hear a word she said.
I just stood and pulled my phone out of my bloodied purse. I’d have to get a new one.
It was my mom.
With shaking hands, I answered, putting the phone to my ear, my arms shaking all the way to my shoulders. I only ever ran. Never did any weights. Maybe I should start. Make myself stronger.
Stronger than this.
Stronger than a weak, pathetic whore with a silver spoon in her mouth.
I didn’t say a word. Not one. I had no idea if I was feeling rage or confusion or nothing at all. It felt as if I was feeling everything and nothing all at once.
I hated that more than I hated Steven.
The line was silent. “Hello?” she asked. “Helloooo?” She clicked her tongue and sighed. “The silent treatment, hmm? You haven’t sent the check yet, Olivia. We need that money, sweetie.”
I wrapped my arm around my stomach and walked slowly around the room, looking at things I never bothered with before. Every time I came here was a nightmare. Every single time. Why did I think this would be any different?
When I didn’t respond, she huffed. “You are acting like such achild,” she bit. “What are you, 12? I thought I raised you better than this.”
Once again, she didn’t raise me at all. The moment I was born, she handed me off to a nanny, Greta, and went off to whatever premiere some popstar invited her to. My first word was Greh. Not mom or dad, Greh. I don’t think I learned how to say ‘mom’ until I was 3. There was no point in learning it. She was never around.
“Send me the check,” she stated as I walked up to a bookcase filled with DVDs near the hall. Who even watched DVDs anymore? “And stop texting your father, he wants nothing to do with the daughter who refuses to give him grandchildren.”
I paused in front of a small bookshelf always piled high with clothes and garbage. There was a picture frame poking out among the pile that I had never noticed before.
I picked it up, finding a picture of a beautiful blonde holding a beautiful little brown-haired girl with heterochromia. I studied it carefully, but no emotions came. Not even a little.
He didn’t have any siblings, that’s what he had told me. So, either he lied about that or…
Or he had family, and I was just…just his little piece of trash, like I was Everett’s piece of trash.
