Mongols
When I lay in the bath tub on Tuesday nights, Richard will cook the kids dinner and bathe them. Sometimes I'll drink wine in the tub with the jets on, and sometimes I'll read my poetry books and let the bubbles pop until my toes are wrinkled and I'm left staring at my legs, or at least that's what Richard thinks. Being in hiding is probably one of the most boring things I've ever done, after the lifestyle I've lived in. Drugs and money are what I miss the most, Richards accounting job provides for this family, but not enough for the lifestyle I crave to live. In the closet, on my side, there is a shoe box filled with all the things I escaped from, pictures of me and Rox on his bike, old needles, small baggies for expensive things, Canadian dollars, and my favorite sticker that was on the back of Roxs helmet that I scraped of at the sticks bar and grill at a pit stop in Montana. When our rival gang the mongols, stabbed my favorite member of hells angels, Rox, I was taken into witness protection and placed in a small town in Idaho, where I know live with my kids and husband whom ill never love as much as the time I spent with people who probably don't even remember me. Why am I like this?