The Beaten Path
Three little girls walked side by side. The sun was shining, beating down, and warming the crowns of their heads. They chattered and laughed; it was a happiness known only by the innocent, who have yet to see the true darkness the world held for them. We lived in the middle of nowhere; on the outskirts of a bigger town near Milwaukee; we were on a desolate island. There are two roads that run up and down perpendicular to the main road of our subdivision. Much like the two roads Robert Frost describes in his poem, “The Road Not Taken”, there are two roads you can take in life. One path is worn, tread by many. The other is completely overgrown with brush, maybe it has been awhile since someone has braved through the thicket, if anyone ever had at all. There are always shortcuts, and slightly beaten paths, but your freedom of choice is the only thing that will determine your true destination. The two roads I speak of on either side of our, seemingly harmless, little neighborhood both lead to potential destruction. My parents were strict, but had no real structure for themselves. They had no master plan for my life or the life of my sister. If my mother had forced me to play an instrument and keep up with school, along with everything else going on in my developing life, I may have felt too much pressure. Stressed out and anxiety ridden from a young age it may have, however, felt all the same. Perhaps though, I would have a greater tolerance for stress. Maybe I would have a sounder work ethic, if I were juggling multiple responsibilities. Regardless, I feel I would have still teetered on the verge of alcoholism and giving my life away to the ease of any high that crossed my path. Being in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by people with the same mindset, you find things to get into. When we were too young to understand the world around us, we would pretend to be witches. We would draw “chalk houses”, displaying our dream rooms to each other. We would run the streets of our subdivision after our parents were asleep, in search of something. I'm not sure what. The oldest girl, Courtney, was taller than my sister and I, with brown curls falling around her face and big brown eyes. She had freckles sprinkled across her nose and dotting her cheeks. She was the ring leader to our little circus. The youngest of the three, my little sister Bailey, was running wild since she was born. She always drank her Ovaltine, she sprung up almost a foot taller than me; since sixteen I was always chugging coffee. Her dirty blonde hair, a little darker than mine, has always been long and luscious, regardless of all the chemicals it has endured over time. She'll always say her hair is brown, but it's the lightest brown I have ever seen. She has the same green eyes I do; they change colors and are speckled with brown that looks gold or yellow in the sunlight. There's a special place in the world for people with the universe in their eyes. As we walked away from the subdivision that held our whole lives, side by side, we continued to chat and visualize our future selves. We turned right, down one of the winding roads that ran either way, to Racine or Milwaukee. We headed passed rows of corn and soybeans growing in the farmer's fields that surrounded us and the little red house that sat across the street from our neighborhood's sign. The park we were heading to would be the backdrop to so many memories. The swing set was our favorite spot. It is the first thing you see as you walk south towards the park. There were two baby swings, and two big kid swings; all of us started running to beat the others. We grew up in that park and the streets and woods of the Vista, our subdivision. First riding bikes and hiking around, and then cooler hopping and breaking and entering. Fun turned to looking for euphoria in whatever form we could find it. I was the last to grow up. The life we were headed towards was one I was intrigued by from a young age, but I felt apprehension from the second it started appearing before me. I knew it was going to lead to places and things I couldn't even imagine. At that moment, life seemed so big and I was so small. I enjoyed drifting off, daydreaming of what could be. I had my sister and my closest friend, my parents and my grandma. I had aunts, uncles and cousins; my people. I knew who I was and where I came from. It wasn't always the easiest of times, but I was well taken care of. Slowly, however, I could feel myself being pushed towards the edge. Something was lurking around the corner; I knew this without actually knowing. One by one I lost everyone close to me in one way or another, and there was nothing I could do. I've never felt as hopeless, and I pray I can save others who find themselves down the beaten path.