I Was A Teenage Pioneer

Some People Should Not Have Children (I'm Looking At You Britney)

I was 14 when our electricity was disconnected. I assumed it would come back on, until I heard my mom on the phone, and realized she hadn't paid the bill in two years. I'm not sure why they didn't cut it off sooner, but once they made the decision, they weren't turning back.
Instead of getting a job, mom ran an extension cord from my aunt's house, and hooked up a fan and a television. At night, I read by candle light, a white trash Laura Ingalls. The summer nights were sweltering, so I laid naked in my bed with a bucket of ice and prayed for a gust of wind. During the winter, my breath made steam clouds in front of my face as I snuggled with my sister in an attempt to avoid frost-bite.
Our refrigerator could no longer be used for it's intended purpose. It didn't matter anyway, because my mom sold our food stamps for heroin. The fridge became a pantry to store the out-of-date Hostess snack cakes that mom salvaged from the garbage at the Twinkie factory. We ate snack cakes for dinner every night. When we ran out of Twinkies, we ate toast. A lot of toast.
We didn't have toiletries, so I got a job cleaning house for an elderly couple, and used my money to buy soap and shampoo, which I hid from the rest of the household. I stole toilet paper from the truckstop. I caught my mom using my shampoo, and I hit her in the chest. Poverty made me an animal.
To escape the horror of my day to day existence, I huffed gas, and had "relationships" with a number of idiots not worthy of my attention. The brain damage sustained during this time was not permanent, and I didn't get pregnant. I am eternally grateful.
When I was 17, mom overloaded the extension cord, and a short caused our dilapidated trailer to catch on fire. All that remained was a burned out shell. Mom took my little sister to a motel for the night, and left me to fend for myself. Reluctant to leave my 10 year old sister to care for herself, I had delayed my escape, but as I listened to the field mice frolic in the dark, I decided it was time to go. I packed my things and left the next day. It was the wisest decision I ever made.
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As an adult, I revel in the ability to turn on every appliance in the house. I realize this is wasteful, but I don't do it often. I feel I conserved enough as a teenager to allow me to celebrate in this way. My pantry is stocked with enough to food to survive the apocalypse, and the variety of toiletries in my cabinet is breath-taking. Many circumstances leave a permanent mark. These aren't so bad. I can live with them.