Ambrosia

"Ambrosia" he spat as if the name had a disgusting taste. " Who would name their child Ambrosia". My mother would i thought as I snatched my school id from the jerk at the help desk. I could see already that i was not going to like this school. I wondered why my mother had to move us to the city we were doing just fine in yonkers. The people in the city are like vultures just waiting for you to be vulnerable so they could chew you up. I am very vulnerable here it is a new place and i don't know anyone. I had to leave all my friends behind I am a stranger in this strange land. You don't move a child named Ambrosia to a cruel place like this, and to avoid all this you just don't name your child Ambrosia. In Yonkers i liked my name it was different, unique and I stood out from the crowd. Here in the big apple I am just and average girl with a weird name. We've lived here for two months now and still everywhere I go I am judged by my name. I don't give my mother a hard time about naming me my grandma says she's been wearing rose colored glasses most of her life, and is impervious to the world's cruelty. I like her this way she's uplifting you can never be sad around her. She's my motivation when i am around her i forget about all the people who make fun of my name and i am just grateful she name me what she did. She's an angel and you couldn't get mad at her if you tried. I guess that's why my dad left I suppose you can get tired of too much good. I am not mad at him I just am sorry that he would leave a good woman like my mother. We don't talk about my father his name was jim, and every time we do talk about him it's as if he were dead. I don't wish for a normal family, but i do miss him. He used to ride me on his shoulders my view of the world was nice from up there. I don't know if my mother misses anything about him, but I did steal her diary once and she wrote about little girls in their daddy's t-shirts and how she has to endure he grey sundays without him. I don't know what any of that means, but I wonder if she still writes about him. I wonder if he writes about us where is he in the world. If he walked by me on the streets would I even know it was him? Maybe I'll understand one day but as of right now Im confused, maybe it not for me to understand. So for now I'm just Ambrosia