Left for Garbage

Deeley could stay with me and that I’d take care of them, I loved them, yadda yadda, Bobby-the- sucker rides to the rescue again …
    Denise , of course, acted like it was the best idea she’d ever heard and said, ‘Yadda yadda ... I love you too, and I’m so lucky to have you, and so is Deeley … yadda yadda.’ Which, by the way, makes me want to vomit because, of course, now I know Deeley was already dead by the time we had this talk.
    So, anyway, she said she had to go get some clothes and pick up Deeley from some Manny guy who was helping her out , and that she’d be back.
    Next time I saw her was two days later when she showed up for a pool party I was having, and she introduced me to her new boyfriend, Aaron, who she said she was living with. How strange is that? I let it go - what else could I do?
    I didn’t hear from her again until she sent the text on July fifteenth saying Deeley was missing and had been missing for a long time. I called her. She didn’t call back and then, of course, she went to jail.
    Since then I’ve just been trying not to hate myself for having loved a girl who could do what she did. I know her crazy mom has even told some people I might be the one who killed Deeley but I don’t take it personally. I feel too sorry for her. It must be so horrible to have a daughter like Denise. God knows, it’s horrible to have ever loved her.
    I have good days but more bad. It’s hard nowadays. I’m praying a lot about the future and then there’s Emily. She’s the good part. Emily is the girl who was Denise’s good friend and who ended up getting robbed by Denise. Mrs. Brown accused her, too, of kidnapping and killing Deeley. Anyone but Denise, right?
    I had never met Emily, but that’s not so strange since Denise tended to compartmentalize her life. Anyway, Emily reached out to me when all this happened and I like her so much. She’s been a real blessing in my life, the only one I can thi nk of right now, but I’m trying, I’m trying every day to forgive myself and -who knows? - one day maybe I’ll be able to. It’s harder forgiving Denise, but my dad says not to worry about that right now. He says God forgives but sometimes humans can’t.

Denise Brown
    (Fibber McMom herself)

    Okay, I know now what I have to do. I’ve thought this all out, and I know where and when my problems started. Penelope has been teaching me a lot about what causes a person to lie. I’ve told her everything about my life. She knows me better than I know myself and has really helped me to understand myself.
    Seel, I love him, he’s my brother, but it’s mostly his fault for all my lies. You see, I had to resort to a fantasy world because I wasn’t mature enough to handle my real world. I was a mother and I was supposed to act like a mother, but I couldn’t. It was tough, raising a baby and still having to go to work. So, I created a job in my mind, and I told everybody … I mean every single person I knew … that I had this great job. After all, if you’re going to make up a job, why make up being a janitor at Walmart if you can say you are a CEO? Not that I said that. I’ve never imagined being Donald Trump - that’s just crazy. I said I was in Promotions, which isn’t too far out there since I could totally do that job; I’d be stellar at it.
    I would make up quick stor ies about what happened at work. I’d say I have a huge party to promote and ask advice about it from friends, really laying it all on to the point I actually believed I held this fake job. I pictured the framed photos setting on my desk, the wall hangings, everything about my imaginary office. I pictured myself answering my desk phone, my shoes off beneath the desk. I even started having memories of parties I’d promoted for famous people. I believed in this job as if I had actually been there and worked it.
    Pene lope has explained it all to me: that that’s how crazy my family drove me. She said they made my reality so horrible, and made me feel so bad about who I really was and how I was living, that I created an alternative life, just to survive.
    Remembering what Seel said last year on T.V., at Deeley’s funeral, well , I’ve replayed it over and over in my head while biding time in my pit, and I’ve realized Seel is quite the mess. He always promised me he would protect me, but when I heard his words, I finally realized it is him I need to be protected from.
    Then there’s old Jesus boy Bobby, who’s