 |
|
|
|
|
Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: PG
Pairing: Gen. Hartigan and Nancy.
Feedback: Good lines, bad ones, and why you liked/disliked them.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Notes: Title and quote from here.
Summary: Upheavals outside and in.
***
“Nothing in the air but songs
And no singers, no mouths to know the songs?
You tell us a woman with a heartache tells you it is so?
This will be all?”
--And This Will Be All?, Carl Sandburg
* * *
Dear Hartigan,
I can still remember my mother’s angry face, the tears that flicked the inside of my father’s glasses. It hurts, but the words they threw at me hurt more and if I’d stayed with them, that would have been all I would have gotten. I can’t live like that, I can’t live with the lies they tell themselves. They’ve always, always known better, and I kept hoping that one day they’d wake up and realize the truth about you. But now it’s clear that they won’t.
They tried to make me stop writing. My mother found an old draft of one of my letters, and she burned it. Burned it. I swear, I didn’t even realize how angry that made me till I’d slapped her and she’d slapped me back.
Don’t worry about me, all right? I’ve had a job for a few months now, and some of my friends knew where I could find a decent place on my pay, so I had somewhere to go. I’m still keeping up my grades, though it’s a lot harder. But I’ve got it all figured out. Really. I sat down and lost a few nights’ sleep, but I’ve got a plan and I’m going to make it work, even if I have to do everything myself. I’m not going to let anyone stop me writing to you.
Boyfriend doesn’t know all the details, but he knows I’ve been arguing with Mom and Dad for a while over other things. I think he thinks it was over him, a little, and over me wanting to try for a good college while Mom and Dad want me to settle for a less expensive one. They don’t think I can get the scholarships…I don’t tell them half of what I’m studying because they’re still so goddamned closed-minded. Like I’m still some little kid they need to protect. But they should be able to tell just from my grades.
God. But I really, really didn’t want to do this. Really. I tried. I tried as long as I could, but they wouldn’t even listen to me and it was just too much.
I had a friend give them my letter saying I was never coming home. I was going to do it myself, but I tried twice and ended up crying in an alley two blocks away. It’s such a cowardly way to do it, I know. I’m not very proud of myself right now. But I can’t stop now. There are just lines you can’t cross twice, and I just stepped over some.
Some of my high-school friends think this is so cool, and for a day or so I thought so too, but then I really thought about it and now I’m terrified. I just huddle on my bed and hug myself and wish. But wishes don’t get you much. I’m old enough to know that.
I’m old enough to take care of myself. I’ll just have to remember that.
Love you always,
Cordelia
***