My Life, Their Show

urnt coffee, a smell that clung to

last sticky table

done, another seven

would go to

broke, not in th

struggling alone aft

I was starting

above a noisy bar in a p

ewhere else,

me outside the diner, leanin

, his voice trying for wa

h day

ed, too tir

ady reaching for my hand, where I clutched my earnin

was alway

bills from my fingers,

do. You're a

ulder and walked

familiar coldness se

ered in my vision, li

ven trying to h

ard. The te

thought. Too ma

e five-dollar bill feeli

nt peeling. I ate a piece

, sharper this time, ove

l doesn't get it? H

ter' storyline is dragging. W

ounded. Wh

ead, trying

vid are living it up with Jessica in that mansion

y older sister, Jessie, who supposedly

ead washe

ept coming, a

ains, she'd go to Oakhaven

richest part of the co

d to

ing job. I used my last five dollars

hour, my cheap shoes

ates were huge, black iro

't just

ervice entrance. Or

th, a service road half-h

mbled as I p

enormous, lawns perfec

vid's car is usually parked by the b

ike I belonged, my cheap c

#17. It wasn't a ho

way, next to a shiny new sport

could

I saw

wling veran

nd well-fed, not the str

t in a way I' d never se

dressed in expensive clothes

a perfect, happ

fam

left m

rly raised' role because she was quieter, more 'manageable' as a ki

age

en, the beautiful, cruel truth burning itself into