Role Model

My name is Reba.

Reba Forthy.

I hate my name, I really do.

I'm nothing like the country singer.

I'm blond, platinum blond.

Tall and lanky, uncoordinated.

I'm a book worm, I let the words take me to a new place.

School is what I'm best at. 

I get good grades, high grades actually.

And other students comes to me for help.

I guess I have the smarts my father doesn't have.

Everyone tells me I get that from mom.

I wish I met her,

Maybe one day I will,

When my time is up in the world.

Until then, I'll have to suffer living with him.

Now, being raised by my father,

Is not the best thing for me.

Sure, we have a television

And money, a roof over our heads, and a car for me to drive...

But he is no role model.

A drunk, a popper, a druggie.

That's what he is.

I'm surprised we haven't lost our home yet.

He can't keep a job.

Back and forth, job to job.

It's no wonder we live in a hell hole.

Our place is a dump.

I keep away from him as much as I can.

Working, school, or reading.

It is the only way I can escape.

Escape from the abuse.