I didnt used to be like this you know. I was a goddess in high school. Perfect face, perfect grades, perfect boyfriend (or at least thats what I thought at the time), and I was heading down a road that ensured my life would turn out peachy keen. But I guess when you took a deeper look under all of the clothes and the popularity, it was never perfect. My mother was an abusive alcoholic, I saw my father once a year if I was lucky because he had his own family to worry about. My friends, if you could call them that, were shallow and wouldve turned on me the second they found out I wasnt living the same rich girl fantasy life as them. The boyfriend, Kevin, the perfect jock stereotype couldnt have cared less, he cheated on me constantly and I was his lap dog. It was also when I met her thoughand my life was instantly better because she was in it. We didnt hang in the same social scene, she was a free spirit, and I was constantly concerned with appearance. But we were inseparable outside of school and she was my rock. We could tell each other anything and it was from her that I learned friendshipand then lovetrue undying love. And I know what youre thinking, Im 18How could I know what true love is, right? Maybe youre rightmaybe I dont, but it felt like I could love her forever. I guess thats what tore us apart. After my brother died my mom realized how much of life she was missing by being a drunken slob, so she got help. It didnt help me, she found a new love, and her loyalties shifted. Then she found out about Bette and she cast me out; decided that she couldnt deal with it. I was supposed to go to Philadelphia with Bette, and we were going to start college together. My mother forbid me to do soand told me she was sending me to my Uncle Andys in Texasshe said he was the only relative I had that didnt have a family of their own to worry about. Funny, I dont even remember him. Like I saidlife used to be good I guess, better than it is now. Youre probably wondering what the ***** Im going on about and Ill get to that. But for right now lets just say that I learned to hate myself in Houston. I turned into someone that I wouldnt have known just a few short months ago. Im a stranger to myself, and I dont think I can even tell you what thats like. This as good a place as any though, to tell you what exactly happened the day I left Bette and got on that plane to Houston. What exactly made me take the plunge off the high road of perfection that I was on, take that hard left, and leave others choking on my dust. What made me believe in no limits, no end, no roof to stop me from mingling with the stars. What made me take the high velocity rush into madness? I guess when youre alone things change. Maybe its not really a reality, but a distorted image of what I wanted to see. But thats the point, I wanted to be there. No mom : I was alone the 10 odd years she was getting completely plastered. Then I was alone when she decided to get sober, and take up being a ***** instead of a drunk. No father: His wife and her kids were more important, even when one of his own kids died. No brother: My precious little angel of a brother who was killed by the same type of person that my mother had become. At least he wouldnt have to see me like this. Maybe if he was still alive I wouldnt be like this though. Finally, no Bette: She broke up with me, right before I left. She told me that maybe it wasnt the right time for us and that I could find someone better to be with that I wouldnt have to run from. I didnt think she wouldve been right, I just wished Id had the courage to run. Im not gonna blame anything on her though, she didnt know. But I grew to like who I had become better than the weak shell that I was. She was the not quite stuck up version of myself. Not as silent, shouting obscenities because the felt good in her mouth. She wasnt as straight A, but grew to develop so many other useful talents. All togethershe wasn’t that sanesometimes I even worry about her. Alone there was just hermeno perfect college freshman bound, blonde straight laced daughter, who was always there to take care of things. Alone there was no Christina Marie Kennard, there was only Sadie. Somewhere under the surface I guess she was always there ya know? Just under the surface, watching all that Tina did in disgust, waitinglike the moon waits for the sun to go down, so that it can unleash all of the debauchery that darkness brings about. I let Sadie out when dreams seem to delve into an unsatisfactory state, when things get too monotonouswhen Tina cries. I can remember the first night that I let her go, when I opened the floodgateswhen I was freed. No Im not schizo, no more than most people at least. Sadies not an imaginary friend, not an overactive imagination, not an alter ego thats invading my body. She is meshes my face, my bodyShes something I wear, a protective covering to stay above the black riptides of an endless ocean where good little girls dont know how to tread the water. Anywayeven good girls have their secrets right? Who do the good girls go to when night approaches. Id love to hear confessions of who they become when it gets dark. And now I sound even more insane dont IIm not. I swear. I guess this is what loosing love does to you. I guess this is who Ive becomea product of life? Whatever. All that I know is that I need to tell this story, if for nothing more than to convince you now that maybe Im not insaneor maybe to convince myself?