My Shifted Life

Hi, my name is Scarlet Monroe, but most people call me Lettie. I don’t really look like a Scarlet, I’m not sophisticated enough to really pull off the name, so I prefer to go by Lettie. I’m not sure what a Lettie should look like, I’ve never met another one before, so I guess it should look like me. I am definitely not sophisticated, more of a tomboy with long blonde unruly curls that I get from my mum. I live with my mum Georgia, who definitely rocks the hippie chic vibe, and my pet snail Bruno. We live in an old VW campervan and never stay in one place for long. We have been moving around, ever since before I can remember. It’s always been just me and Mum. We don’t have a lot, but we make do, and we are happy, most of the time. Mum works when she can, mainly in bars, and busks when she can’t. She is an amazing singer and she plays the guitar brilliantly. She only has to hear a song once to be able to play it and sing it perfectly. I wish I had her talent, but although I am pretty good, if I do say so myself, I have to work really hard to learn how to play new songs. I love to sing too and I especially love to sing with my mum when she busks, but she hates for me to be out on my own. Today is my 16th birthday. I know my mum has been saving up secretly to get me a present, but honestly there is nothing I want. Well except maybe a dog, but with us living in a campervan and moving about so much, a snail is a much better pet. “Lettie.” My mum calls opening the campervan door, revealing that night is falling. “Yep.” I reply with my normal response to everything. “There is something I need to talk to you about.” Mum says in a serious voice. “Sure.” I reply, even though I am definitely not sure about this conversation. “Does Hattie still talk to you?” Mum asks. “Mum, I’m a bit old for an imaginary friend don’t you think?” I’m 16 now, I’m not going to admit I have a voice in my head that talks to me all the time, in fact she never shuts up, she’s so bossy and annoying that I have perfected blocking her out. “Oh, that’s ok then. I just wondered if she was still there.” Mum asks, her voice softening as she speaks. “She’s not.” I lie quickly. I don’t like to lie to my mum, but this feels like a little white lie, something that is harmless and aimed at stopping my mum from worrying about me unnecessarily. “You see your dad was a little bit different. He had a voice in his head too.” “Is that why we don’t see him, he has schizophrenia?” I ask. My mum never, ever talks about my dad - like ever! “No, not quite, but we don’t need to talk about him. I just wanted to check if you still had a voice in your head too, but if you say you don’t that’s great.” Mum looks really uncomfortable. I don’t like to see her like this, so although I have so many questions I want to ask her about him, I let it go. I know she won’t answer them anyway, every time I have asked before, she just got upset and refused to tell me anything. “Are you ready for your present?” Mum changes the topic, gracefully putting her beaming smile back on her face. “Mum I told you, I don’t want a present.” I whine. “Are you sure?” She asks holding out the large wrapped gift. “Mum!” I gasp, knowing exactly what it is without opening it. Ok, maybe there was something I wanted for my birthday other than a dog, but I know it costs way more than we can afford. “I hope it’s the right one.” She says, as I rip the wrapping paper off to reveal the most beautiful shiny black guitar I have ever seen. “It’s beautiful.” I admit, “but you shouldn’t have.” “Nonsense, you only turn 16 once. I saw you looking at them when we passed the shop last week. Shall we.” She says, grabbing her own guitar and starting to strum some chords to warm up her fingers. “I love you, this is amazing.” I say joining in with the strums. “You are very welcome, but no busking on your own. I mean it, I don’t want you playing outside on your own, even though you have your own guitar now.” “Ok.” I agree, knowing that it will be a promise I won’t keep. I just love playing and singing for people too much. The next day after school I take my guitar and head to the parade of shops to busk. My promise to my mum didn’t even last 24 hours, oops, but I never did understand her need to keep me at home all the time, especially when she was at work. I’m singing and making quite a bit of money when Bren comes up and stands right in front of me. Brendan, super hot, super out of my league, slightly older guy from school. I have no idea if he even knows who I am, but I sure know who he is, but who doesn’t? I’m pretty sure all the girls at school want to get with him, and all the guys want to be him. I, on the other hand move about so much, I barely get to know anyone before, whoosh, we are moving on, and starting all over again. “Cool guitar.” He says still standing in front of me when I finish, waiting for my next song. “Thanks. It was a birthday present.” I say whilst trying not to drool. “When?” “Yesterday.” “Oh man, I didn’t realise, I should get you something.” He says in his beautiful deep voice. “No you really shouldn’t. We don’t know each other that well.” Hell we don’t know each other at all. I can’t remember ever having a conversation with him before, other than mumbling thanks when he held a door open or something like that, and I would definitely remember having a full on conversation with him. I begin to play the next song and he stands watching, his strong arms folded across his chest with the most brooding, sexy look on his face. He is totally hot, in a bad boy kind of way. He’s 17 years old, 6ft tall, dark, dark hair that sits long on top, which he is constantly running his hands through, sweeping it to the side of his perfect face. He has the most beautiful dark brown eyes that you could get lost in for hours. He looks like he should be riding a motorcycle. I have no idea if he does, but it would totally fit his bad boy rocker kinda aesthetic, and totally go with the faded jeans and tight white T-shirt that he always seems to wear. I finish playing and he throws a couple of twenties into the case. “Happy birthday.” He says flashing me the sexiest smile I have ever seen. “Thanks.” I say smiling back. “I gotta go. My mum will go mad if she catches me busking.” “Really? Maybe you should stop, you don’t want to be grounded for the bonfire on Friday night.” “Oh, I’m not going to that.” I say quickly packing my guitar into its case. “Why not?” He asks furrowing his brows at me. s**t, he even looks gorgeous doing that. “I’ve not been invited.” I admit, hoping I don’t sound like too much of a loser. “It’s a bonfire on the beach. No one is invited. You just turn up. Listen I’ll pick you up at 7.” “What? No. I can’t. I mean, thanks and all but I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it.” I stutter out. I definitely sound like a loser, ground swallow me up! “I’ll pick you up at 7, I’m sure you will think of something.” He says as he walks away running his fingers through his hair and winking at me. And that is how I got a date to the biggest social event of the year for a 16 year old with no friends.