Condensed

When can i breathe?
Life has been very strange to me. It took me and beat me. Left me a quiet mess. Then it picked me back up and remolded me. It set me down in happiness and found me powerful companions. It tore me away again and dropped me to the ground. I've had a lull now in this storm of a life and now I wait for what it has come up with this time.
I was born with my twin sister. We only needed each other to stop crying. I had no security blanket. Neither did she. Our mother would find us sound asleep holding the others ankles. Mirror opposites we where. In colors and in attitudes.
My brother was barely older than we, and he loved to make us smile. I remember him dancing around the room with me when we where little. Maybe 4 and 5. Our shoes shiny. My dress puffy and his clothes clean and pressed.  We all loved to smile.
Even when I came home, a hand mark printed upon my face, I still smiled. I loved my life. I didn't know fear. I still loved it even when I lost some of my hair. They'd pulled it out in drunken confusion.
My grandmother did that.
Some nights my father would take turns holding his hand over my mouth. And my siblings. He'd let go when we grew too weak to struggle. I still enjoyed spending time with him. Even when he did the unthinkable. I was the one who came and said goodbye.
Why did he do it? I can see us all then. Small things we had been. We where small long past when they thought we would be small. My brother. Always in his Sunday best. No matter what time it was. Light brown hair. And dark brown eyes. A wide toothed smile.
My sister. Always missing one shoe or the other. Short hair. Almost black. The same dark eyes. She was quiet and barely ever talked. Falling asleep at the worst moments. Like in her dinner plate.
And me. Bright blond hair. Half way to my waist. Bright green eyes. And a smile that would make everyone else smile. My dresses where always clean and presentable. I never wore pants. And didn't even own gym shoes till kindergarten. Everyone called us perfect little angels. Holding hands going down the street. Perfect table manners. Toys didn't belong at the table. Feet stayed on the floor (or in the air depending on the chair). No yelling or screaming. And plenty of thank yous and your welcomes.
So why did he do it. Why take us into that room and close the door? Tell us not to tell anyone. I guess I was never very good at keeping a secret.
My mother turned green when I told her.
I asked him what it was. His answer was left over from me and my sister. He said it was part of me. What a liar he turned out to be.
That was it. No more staying up till dawn cleaning rooms. No more cat pee in my bed. No more fear of toys being destroyed by crap. No more abuse. I could sleep and not worry about hot sauce.
But no more sunrises. Or takeout. No more plastic pianos. No more father.
Apparently the judge couldn't take the eyewitness accounts as any real proof. My sister just cried. I just stared forward. No proof at all.
My mother got married again. We moved many times. Nanny moved in with us. And then we finally got a house. And a dog. That's my Wonder pup. I haven't seen my father since I was five.
My mother got divorced again. Turns out he was a smoker and an alcoholic. Goodbye.
Another man moved in. I got a pony. Not really. But I got to work with a pony. Nanny died in her 80's.
Mom got married again. But this time she was pregnant.
Suddenly I got a step sister and a half brother.
And then I got a horse. Man, was she beautiful. Scary. Yet awesome.
I loved her very much.
And then she was gone. Taken away. Just remembering her makes me so sad.
Grandmother had been living with us for awhile. She didn't make it any easier. Apparently I played head games with her. Apparently I was really my father's daughter. I would amount to nothing. No matter what I ever did. I was just nothing. I would just grow up to be hated and to hate others. A dark future was being marked out.
Grandma moved to a nursing home. Put on a high flight risk floor. This was my fault too.
I can't lie. I was really happy. I still smile at it.
Fighting got really bad with the step father. They put me in counseling.
The counselor had some really good advice. "Only two more years. Than you can get away."
Can I really get away?

So who am I? The beaten scared little girl? Or am I something else?

I am the one who smiles in the rain.
I glare in the sunlight.
I cry when ever I hear Fur Elsie.
I cringe at humans.
I hug large dogs.
I shake my head at little dogs.
I love children.
As long as they aren't mine.
I don't wish to get married in the long white dress.
And church just isn't for me.
I don't hate anyone.
I smile when I see an orange.
I eat grapes when I'm feeling sick.
Personally I hate all fast food. Including subway.
I think milk is disgusting. Except Almond Milk
I sometimes forget that I have blond hair. Sometimes it scares me when I see it on the edge of my vision.
I just read a book called Instruction Guide on How to become a Genus.
I'm scared of people. Not for what they could do. But for what they won't do.
I'm really shy.
I jumped off a pole 30 feet high. It was the leap of faith. It was exhilarating.
I've had people worry that I drowned myself in swim class. I just enjoy staying underwater.
I could really care less about my life.

I can't wait for the day when I can run. Just run as far as I can go. I feel like I should be a gypsy. Or a nomad. My skin is too tight for me now. I just feel heavy. I need to get away. Some where where I can be me without worrying of what people will think of when they see me. Or that they will be shocked when I actually speak my mind.

I love you all so much. It just breaks my heart when I feel like you've let me down. When you did nothing wrong.