Farmer's Daughter

Another day, home from school. Mercedes greets me at the car door and graciously I see that she's been busy chasing field mice by way of her reddish-brown matted under-carriage. She needs another haircut soon, I think. I stride slowly up the brick steps, tug at the orange door with retro circular glass, and drop my bag inside the door. Quickly I pick it back up for fear mom will only tell me my things belong in my room and not strewn all over the place. Moms: they have eyes in the back of their heads.

It's night now. Nights are so peaceful here. I practiced my piano, did as much Pre-Calc as I could stand, read a chapter, did some writing.. ate dinner. TV seems so.. unrewarding. I change into PJ's which are customarily sweat pants and a t-shirt. I make myself a glass of ice water, and find a spot outside to meditate. Not too many lights illuminating my path, so I have to take a flashlight with me in case I've forgotten a crack in the path or a missing plank in the back stairway.

As soon as I find a spot to perch I turn my eyes upward toward the heavens. It's a clear night. No clouds, no wind. It's warm. Sticky warm. School's almost over so the night stars reflect that of the summer sky. I can still spot Orion and Andromeda, the dipper and the north star. I can also see Table Mountain and the baseball diamonds, or are they tennisball courts? I'm so alone here. My mind begins to wander about the worries that plague me daily.

I do not feel loved. I do not feel accepted. I do not feel wanted. Boys. That's what I think about constantly. Stupid boys. I like this one and that one, but they dont' even know I exist. They like this girl or that girl. They'd never go out with me. I'd never stand a chance. I'm too fat, I'm not pretty enough, I am not amazing. I'm not exciting. Not friendly, not flirty. Not.. what they look at. I'm such a nobody! But I try not to think about it too often.. only when I'm alone like this. I'm not going to change myself for them, that's for sure. What I really want to do is sing.. sing outloud, just wail. The only thing I can think to sing is "Phantom of the Opera," and what I love most is no one is listening so I can sing as loudly as I want. This is what makes me feel free. So much open space. I am singing to no one. That's all that matters right now. I let it out...


I sit back down on the pavement after a few verses. The ground is warm and grainy, like laying out on a scorching summer afternoon. The heat remains after the sun sets. I look out, I look up, I see endless trees and the headlights from cars at a distance. They remind me of a neon sign with bulbs lined up in a row. I can't hear the bustle, the traffic, the chaos. All I hear is.. hmmm. I'm not sure I can hear anything from here. I go back inside and sneak up to the roof, my favorite hide-out.

The roof is tricky. I open the door from the stairway that leads up to the sunroof. I tiptoe carefully around the edges because the middle of the roof is weak. I crawl up to the side where the roof is better supported, shingled and rough as sandpaper. I make it up to the top, to the smaller houselike structure of the roof which covers the stairway. I sit again, elbows on knees, and just look. My eyes take in all that's around me. There's a tall tree erecting from the backlawn but I never knew what kind of tree it was. Every year it drops a million leaves and we've never been able to have grass because of it. The leaves are so green right now, and the tree is full. It's so dark out.. there's no moon so the stars are extra bright. I will never know this true beauty before me, for years to come. I don't think about how I'll look back on times like this, on how pathetic I thought my life was, on how really important it was then to have every boys' attention. Life's importances do not expand further than a due date on a research paper, or a math test I should have studied a little harder for. I have so much right now, and I'm loved so much by my parents. I don't even know it, or if I do I don't care as much as I should. I'm just another self-absorbed sulking teenage girl who can't get her eyes off today or tomorrow, who's not thinking 10 years down the road, or 5 years even.

I'm very indifferent about so many things. I don't know quite yet who I really am, but I know who I don't want to be.. I know I never want to be the person who never lets someone in, who keeps people on the outside so they can never know what it feels like to be accepted. I never want to be the girl who is fake, who smiles on the outside and thinks trashy on the inside. I don't want to be an idiot, and I want to think for myself. I'm impressionable. Tell me you love me and I'll believe you. Maybe. Show me you care for me and I'll do whatever you want, be wherever you need me to be. I'm grasping, desparate. I'm not a person yet, and I won't realize how important it is to know who I am until much... much later. They keep telling me to stand up for my beliefs, to be my own beautiful, to be stronger than temptation. All these things they tell the youth, and we are too sheltered to really know what any of it means. All I see right now are stars. Landscape. The skyline, the horizon. What I see physically, right here in front of me. Behind me I see the dam and its lights, I see a tall mountain that's not really so tall when you look closely. I see my parent's olive orchard, and maybe I see a bounding deer or two. I hear leaves rustling and the wind starts to pick up. I don't care about any of it, or at least that's what I tell myself. No, not about where I am now, but where I am to the people surrounding me. Yes, I care.. okay, I care a lot. But I don't do anything about it. I'm not important enough.

This is the way I grow up. And it doesn't make a lot of sense to me now, but then I'm the farmer's daughter. Dad was a farmer. I'm not, but I feel like my upbringing was so far out in the woods away from everyone. Sometimes I blame my parents for not giving me neighbors during my "impressionable" teen years. Later I learned I was so bratty to think that. But I wouldn't know it yet. I'm proud of who I am, and I wouldn't have it any other way.