Dear Tabitha (7 page)

“Yeah. But, just lay off for a while, okay? You have my permission to say ‘I told you so,’
if
I do something stupid.” I stand and stretch my back. My cramped sleeping quarters last night really did a number on me.

I walk over to my bunk and stash my gadgets just as Tristan emerges from the shower. “Hey, bud, heard Stacy spent the night last night.” His grin is enormous and I want to punch him.

I look over to Dax who just shrugs his shoulders.

I shake my head and walk past him toward the lounge as Tristan chuckles. I’m really trying to keep my composure, but I’m fed up with all of these accusations and innuendos. I get it. My situation looked compromising. Fuck.

I grab my bottle of whiskey, slug back a few shots, feeling the warmth of the booze over my lips, swipe my hand across my mouth, and leave the bus. I’m done with this conversation and all of this shit surrounding Stacy. The opening acts should be finished, and we need to be on stage in a few minutes.

I take a few more swigs of whiskey and enter the stage area. Dax, Garrett, and Tristan are a few minutes behind me.

Dax catches up to me, looking concerned. “Alex, don’t you think you should slow down with that stuff? Our set is over an hour and a half tonight, and I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to make it through.”

“Fuck off,” I reply and grab my guitar from my tech, Josh. I don’t need a lecture from him or anyone.

Throughout the entire set, I’m woozy and a bit out of it, but I make it through. I’m just not feeling it tonight. I want to get the hell out of here. I don’t address the crowd after the last song and just stalk off the stage. Stacy is nowhere around, and I’m relieved. I walk through the backstage area to the exit. I need to get out of here and be alone.

The warm air hits me in the face, but I welcome it this time. I need to feel something, because right now, I’m numb. I finish off what’s left of the bottle of Jameson as I walk back to the bus.

“Great show tonight, douchebag!”

I turn around and see a group of fans near the exit. Did I just get heckled? What the fuck? I am in no mood for this shit, and these fuckers just pushed me over the edge.

“What did you just say to me?” I realize I’m slurring and drunker than I thought.

“Oooh, the brooding lead singer is having a bad night? No one to go home to?” One of the fans continues the bullshit.

I toss my bottle toward a garbage bin and miss. Glass shatters all over the pavement.

I’m going to pummel this fucker. I rush toward him, swinging my fist at his head. He ducks, and I miss and fall to the ground.

“Loser!” the douchebag yells and I notice that a crowd is now gathering. I push myself up and lunge for him again. I’m not going to miss this time.

My fist connects with his ribs, and he buckles around my arm. I’m suddenly pulled away from him and I hear Garrett’s voice.

“C’mon, Alex. You’re done here.” He pulls me toward the bus as three security guards address the crowd.

I can see the guy that I punched being ushered out of the backstage area with his friends. He’s yelling something, but I can’t hear him.

I push away from Garrett. “Let me go,” I grunt.

He releases me and I stumble toward the bus.

“Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you? You’re lucky that guy is drunker than you are and probably won’t even remember what just happened. Jesus, Alex, you’re out of control.” Garrett is concerned and shakes his head.

I leave him standing in the parking lot and enter the bus. Our driver, Mick, is asleep in the front lounge, and I walk past him to go to the bathroom. Garrett doesn’t follow me. I’m glad. I don’t want to have another blow out conversation with anyone right now.

I strip off my clothes and turn the water in the shower to hot. The stream of scalding water washes over me. Man, I have got to get my shit together. I just attacked someone. Granted, it was provoked, but fuck, what is going on with me? I punch my right fist into the wall of the shower and press my forehead against the tiles. This isn’t me. This isn’t who I want to be.

I choke out the words, “Tabby, what you have done to me?”

How do I move on?

Past

Age 8

I
FINALLY
get to wear my pink witch costume! It’s a pretty pink and bubbly dress with glitter. I love glitter. I’m sad that I missed trick-or-treating on Halloween. But I did have cake since it was my birthday. I was sad that Momma wasn’t there to have cake with me.

I miss Momma. My heart hurts when I think about her. I want to see her again.

I’ve been staying with Momma’s friend, Lauren, at her house. I really miss my room at home. I don’t understand why I can’t go back there to stay. Miss Lauren told me that we need some time to heal. I don’t know what that means because I’m not hurt.

Miss Lauren brought me my costume. I heard her tell someone that it was with Momma’s things in her car. She cried when she told that person. I feel bad. She let me wear it today.

We just got to a place that Miss Lauren says is very sad. She told me that everyone is here to say goodbye to Momma. Why do we have to say goodbye? I don’t want her to go. I hope she likes my pink witch costume when she sees me.

Miss Lauren holds my hand when we walk into the building. She’s squeezing it so tight it hurts a little. Everyone is looking at me funny, and so many people are crying. We get into a room filled with flowers, and it smells perfumey. She walks me toward the front of the room where there is a long box. It has pretty flowers hanging on it. When we get to the box, Miss Lauren gets onto her knees. I get down next to her. This is weird, and my heart starts to beat really fast.

Miss Lauren touches the box with her other hand. “I’m so sorry, Trina. I love you so, so much, and I’m going to miss you. You were the best friend that I have ever had, and I just love you so much. Rest in peace.” She starts crying and shaking. I reach my arm around her to hug her. I feel sorry that she is sad.

“Tabby, would you like to say anything?” she asks me.

“What should I say?” I don’t understand what she is asking me.

“Tabby, I know it’s really hard to understand what happened the other day. But we are here to say goodbye to your momma. She’s with God now, and we won’t see her body again.” She touches my heart, and I think she can feel how fast it’s beating. “But we’re always going to feel her in here. She’ll always be with us in our hearts to watch over us and love us.”

I think I know what she means now. I’m never going to see my momma again. I start to cry and cry and cry. She hugs me tight and I cry all over her pretty black dress. I touch the box and say, “Goodbye, Momma.”

I run from the room past all of the people. I don’t know any of them.

This isn’t fair. I can’t say goodbye to Trina forever! She promised that she’d be my forever momma. Why can’t I see her? Is she in that box?

I scream and scream. Miss Lauren runs to catch up to me. She grabs onto me while I’m screaming. “Tabby, honey, it’s going to be okay. I wish I had the right words to say to you right now to make this all better, but I don’t. I’m going to miss your momma, too. She was my best friend, and it’s so hard to say goodbye to her. Promise me that you will try to understand. It’s going to hurt for a long time, probably forever. But like I told you before, she’s always going to be in your heart, and her love will protect you forever.”

I keep screaming until I fall asleep in her arms.

~

Six years later…

I’m in another new school and I hate it. I hate this freaking place and these freaking people. I moved in with my latest foster family, the Blakes, a few weeks ago. This is my third family since Trina died. Apparently, she didn’t have a will or any legal documents that addressed guardianship for me. She also didn’t have any family, and her best friend Lauren couldn’t take care of me, so I wound up in the system.

The Blakes are gross, dirty people and some of the most disgusting excuses of human life I have ever seen. Over the past few weeks that I’ve been here, I’ve heard them describe me as disturbed, messed-up, depressing, and ugly. The list goes on. Mr. Blake actually told me that I would never amount to anything in my miserable existence. He’s probably right, but it hurts hearing that from someone who is supposed to be taking care of you.

Mrs. Blake ignores me completely. I heard her on the phone the other day yelling at Social Services because the first check hadn’t arrived yet. When I asked her what check she was waiting for, she said, “The check that will help me feed my family and your fucking mouth.”

I haven’t approached her or spoken to her since. I see how it is and I’m going to do what I need to do to survive this.

Part of my survival means getting acclimated to another new school. I’m walking down the hall when I hear a shrill voice from behind. “Hey, Freshie! What’s with the whole ‘doom and gloom’ look, goth-chick?”

I turn around to see a group of girls staring at me. I’m used to this. I look different and I like to wear black. It’s how I feel and it’s really all I own. I don’t fit in and never have.

“Excuse me. I’m going to be late for class.” I try to push past them. I really don’t give a crap about being late. I’m used to it, and no matter where I am, I constantly skip class.

I make my way through them, and suddenly find myself being pulled backwards by my bag strap.

“Listen here,
Freshie
. Try not to look at us or get too close to us because you’re diseased. You. Don’t. Belong,” Mean Girl Number One says in my face.

Hmm, this is funny, because this bitch is so close to me right now that we’re practically touching noses.

“Boo!” I yell into her face as I lick her nose. She lets go of me and stumbles backwards, swiping at her face. Good, problem solved. Now they’ll all stay away from me, I hope.

“You might want to get to the nurse since I’m
diseased
,” I sneer at her and walk through the crowd that has gathered.

I hate this place. So. Much.

I’ve become self-sufficient over the past few years. I’ve learned a lot on my own without any help from anyone. And I’ve realized one thing.

Lauren lied to me.

Lies.

Lies.

Lies.

Trina isn’t in my heart. She isn’t protecting me and looking over me.

She’s gone and never coming back.

I’m alone.