A Graveyard Story (For A School Assignment) (Unfinished)

A Graveyard Story

Chapter I

      Born in grief, raised in hate, and indefinitely helpless to defy the very thing called "Fate". Your probably wondering who I am, or just what it is I may be at that. Well my name is Sammy M. Finch (Short for Samantha) or at least it used to be. I come to you as a bodiless soul who wonders this graveyard aimlessly. Why? Because my body lies six feet under with a headstone engraved unknown, which quite frankly ticks me off for the fact that I had a name and was a human being like any other person...well sorta.

      I was born to a mama and a daddy like every other kid I guess. Never did I live like a normal kid. My ma' and pa' were never like normal parents to me. You see my mama is a drug abuser and me daddy an alcoholic. My real Daddy died when I was three from drug overdose and intoxication from all the boos. Whenever things would go down I tried to tell ma' but she was never in a sober mind to listen and or believe me. Sure teachers asked questions but for my own safety I made up lies, and brushed them off. As for friends well...I never was one to have many if any friends at all so never were there questions asked from other kids or other concerned parents.

      My daily routine was to get up at 5:30 a.m., tend to the horses, feed the other animals, ready myself for school, and then tiredly go to school. Upon arriving home it was more work, but instead it was whatever and or anything my "Daddy" wanted me to do. The only thing was "Daddy" was a new man on a weekly basis. They were all scum drug up from wherever ma' could manage to find them. 'Course ma' wasn't much of a clean woman herself. More like a woman with no self dignity and only one thing constantly on her mind, other than the drugs. Enough about them though they really ain't worth talking about to tell you the God's honest truth.

       I could never count the amount of time I've contemplated running away, running away and Never returning. There was no other place I hated more then "Home", because in truth to me it was like a living Haiti. Every day was another one I had hated to live there. I have reasons as to why I hater being there though. Every guy my ma' had there was abusive or nasty most of the time both. I can't tell you how many times I went to bed bruised, in pain, or bleeding. Each guy was different but with each strike from every one of them just came more stinging pain, and such hatred, emotionally and physically. Which is the main reason I wanted to run away. Don't get me wrong I attempted but they always came after me so they could keep their personal slave and punching bag. As soon as I thought I was in the clear and gone the cops were there for me dragging me back. Back then adults had no business listening to kids one bit. They considered everything lies to shut them up and so they wouldn't have to deal with any of it. Just like the time I was 16 and raped, no one believed me they thought I just went out and had a good old time with some guy...I hadn't. It was because of that very incident that I now have a three year old daughter. I do not resent this child one bit, nor would I ever give her up. She is the one and only person I love with all my heart and would risk my life for.

         Nealy S. Finch is what I named my daughter. Many people asked as to why I never gave her up, and why I never had an abortion with her. My answer is and remains this; 1. She never asked to be brought into this world, especially not this way, 2. I could never and would never take another humans life or any living things life at away at that, and 3. I was always a loner. The guy who attacked me was someone I knew...but he promised me that if I ever told, he would kill me. My ma' never believed me neither; of course. She told me I was a lire, she said I went out partying and just gave myself willingly to a guy. So of course my ma' didn't like Nealy, she called her a brain dead child all the time. I didn't like that, because I knew it wasn't true.

          I was not 18 and still had the thought of running away in my mind twenty-four seven. The only problem was where I was from legal age to be away from your parents was 21, but I couldn't take any of it any longer. There was one day that pushed my limits, I had to take Nealy and I had to go. Legal or not, I gathered my things (the few things I owned) as well as Nealy's things and stole some of ma's "Feel Good" cash. The I went out to this week's "Daddy's" pick-up and packed everything including myself and Nealy in it. It was pouring out that day and my chest was burning with an excruciating pain, but I had to keep going for my sake and for hers.

           It was now 11:37 a.m. we had been on the rode for a good four hours or so and the burn in my chest was getting nothing but worse. We kept going but about several minutes later the pick-up broke down. Just my luck early in the morning, pretty cold, pouring down rain, and I feel like I could just pass out. I got out of the truck and looked under the hood there was nothing wrong with it, that I could tell. I never was no mechanic of any kind. I returned to the truck and sat with my head back on the seat for a moment or so, but then I felt my consciousness slipping so I got back up. I threw my bag over my shoulder, got out grabbed Nealy and started to walk but after a few minutes later I don't know what happened, not until the next morning anyway.