What do you think of my story?
Um this is part of a story I'm writing. Its about a girl nicknamed 'Mustang' who is getting ready for her adoptive brothers wedding, but is also being haunted by the ghosts of her past... her dead heroin addict mother and her 'sperm donor' father. I was just wondering what you thought of this ending for the story.
“Mom,” Mom looked up at me from behind her glasses. For someone who was 68 and looking at a very upset 18 year old adoptive daughter, she looked pretty good for her age. ‘What happened with my mom?’
She just sighed and put the last of the onion in her new concoction. ‘Mustang… I really don’t want to…’
“I need to know mom,” I knew in my hearts of hearts I was upsetting her. ‘I need to know why she…’
“Paul!” Dad walked through when Mum called. ‘Will you tell your child about Krystal? Because I neither have the stomach nor the strength.’
“Sure thing…” And with that mom left, walking head proudly upright, although I saw as she passed a glint of tears in her eyes. ‘You’ve upset her.’ Dad duly pointed out.
“I didn’t mean to…”
“Well it’s too late now.” Dad sighed heavily. “Are you sure you want to hear this story??” Dad put his shirt on the hanger, like mom had told him. ‘It’s not a nice one… and not one with a happy ending.’
“I’m waiting.” I managed to smile. He smiled sadly at me and took in a breath.
“Your mum was born on the 2nd of October 1963. A bit younger than Jules, but she was the daughter of cousin of your Uncle Georges. And your uncle George adored her naturally… she was a working class kid… with a scuff on her face and a cheeky word each time…”
“She was always black-and-blue. Her dad used to beat her mum… and on more than one occasion, she’d jumped in the way only to receive such a hiding she could barely stand… but then her mum died... seems he punched her so hard that he ruptured her spleen. Naturally he was sentenced, and your mum went to live with her Uncle George – she was already 14… and already off the rails….”
“The cops went into great detail bringing her home, stinking of **** and booze. She was going over the edge. She listen to the Joy Division and old rockers like Mama Cass and Joplin. She idolized and adored their lifestyle… naturally, she followed their lifestyle. Went into drugs, started off light – you know. Nice stuff, LSD and spliff’s here and there… then she hit heroin… and then she went underground…’
“Underground music is the best sort… it’s the sort which gets your blood pumping mustang. Mainstream is when things get boring…. So your mum developed her life in there. She became Sparrow Gold, then she was Raven Portal and Constance Q... she never had a constant name… she was always on the move… she never told George her plans… she just made them and went by them…. Then she became a bad mans dream with Krystal Thunder. The very heavens would quake when she began to sing, with those dark eyes staring out at you…’
“Then, in 1983, she met your dad. Fell totally in love with him… and of course your dad was mainstream music. They were so loved up… but so fiery…’
“The underground nicknamed them Sid and Nancy. She was so fiery – and addicted. She once smashed a shop window to get glass to slit your father’s throat…” Dad chuckled darkly. ‘They never got married… no matter what Julian put on the tombstone. Passionate wife indeed… the drugs got worse and worse…”
“Then in early 1991 your mum discovered she was pregnant. Pregnant with you…. Your father knew it would kill her… didn’t know how but had a bad feeling.’ Paul sighed heavily. ‘He wanted you to be aborted… but your mother demanded otherwise. She wanted you to have a happy home and she came off heroin… briefly. She ingested it every now and then but not all the time. Not as heavily. She went into labour on October 9th 1991 and you were born at five past four in the afternoon. Your father was delighted… his little girl…”
“Then why didn’t he keep me…”
“I’ll get to that part now. You Unity Janis Cass McGear, were the light of his life… but of course your mum died… and the world fell silent.” Paul took an intake of air. ‘Your mum died of a haemorrhage… the amount of heroin she took caused her to not be able to stop bleeding. She died only 2 hours after you were born… she managed to hold you before she died though… and managed to write you a letter so when you asked about her… whoever looked after you could give to you at the right time.’ Dad walked over to the cat box which I knew Mary had bought him before I was born and withdrew a letter. It smelt of lilacs and disinfectant… ‘This should give you a few answers.’ Dad merely kissed my head and left the room.
My dear little Unity,
If you’re reading this, I didn’t survive the labour and you’ve grown up calling another woman mum… and I’ll admit here and now, your father was right.
I always knew I wouldn’t be a good mother, or wouldn’t be there to see my child grow up. Right now, you’re proba