My father was a Congressman who worked in the capitol and my mother, who made her way raising three kids, had become a minor celebrity after writing a series of high-profile cook books. She even made guest appearances on the Rachel Ray Show and Good Morning America. We appeared to be the perfect family- my father a do-good politician; my mother the perfect housewife. My sister was the runner-up for Miss Teen USA and my brother joined the navy right out of high school. Then there was me.
I graduated high school with high honors, and no one really knew about my experimentation with drugs, though I’m quite positive many people suspected. Sure, I’d had a few scandalous incidents over the years, but what exactly would you expect from a pubescent homosexual? I got accepted into Julliard with practically a full scholarship and had big dreams of becoming a world-renowned cellist. The future looked exceedingly bright for all of us.
Then three years ago my father was accused of forging government expense receipts in order to collect on people’s unclaimed taxes. I think they called it “felony embezzlement.” Apparently our family vacation to Bora Bora was paid for with the public’s hard earned social security. Now, I don’t follow politics much but I’m pretty sure that’s frowned upon at best. Jason, my dad’s defense attorney said that he could have gotten away with it too, but dear-old-dad was caught attempting to flee into Mexico three days before the final verdict. Why he chose to escape to our time-share in Cancun was beyond me, but I digress. It was quite the scandal. Now he’s serving up to seven years in Northern State Penitentiary.
After that, my C-List-socialite mother’s reputation was leveled and she took an overdose of Klonipin, landing her in the CRMHC after she woke up from her two-month coma. The doctors said she might never be the same. I went to visit her once and she didn’t even recognize me.