My Bridge Over Troubled Waters

Awaiting the nine o’clock mail delivery outside my house became my only source of excitement. Most kids my age were getting their last bit of summer debauchery in before the real world came knocking on their door. Their jobs would lickety-split replace do-nothingness. Graduation for most kids signified the beginning of adulthood and true independence but a childhood was something I never had the opportunity to experience. That was not for kids like me. My only life preserver now would be a sealed, addressed envelope from Northview Institute.

Just around the corner I saw the red and white mail truck inching closer. I clenched my eyes tightly and crossed my fingers behind my back for good measure. Bruce jumped out of the truck, onto the ground and gushed, “Looks like you got a letter today, Nancy!” Nonplussed I said nothing. It’s the safest choice in times like these…

“Well come and get it girl!” His impatient tone quickly snapped me out of my train of thought. “I got more deliveries today!” Grabbing the envelope, I looked and saw the Northview Institute insignia.

Bruce beamed as he crawled back into his truck. I held onto the letter. It couldn’t have gotten any closer to my chest.

Anticipation was quickly blackened by verity. Something I dreamt about since I was a little girl may now occur. It would mean leaving my kaylied mother to pickle alone in her insatiable addiction. What was in that packet could be my way out. Was I wrong to be excited about the prospect?

Entering my apartment, I saw my mother with a gash on her forehead. In a drunken stupor she had fallen once again. I threw my unopened letter on the table. I soberly realized she may be too troubled for me to leave just now. It’s an undesigned bridge, it’s one I can not cross. What is held within the envelope would have to remain a mystery. Because woe would surely overshadow any possible future held within the paper and glue. Some things are better left unopened. Are they not?