The Story of Antoinette Baston

Well, where should I begin…

It all is a blur that slowly comes into focus the more I think about it.

So, I guess I’ll just talk a little about myself first.

Well, my name is Antoinette Baston.

I live in Eastern France.

I’m 14 years old but I turn 15 this month at the end of August.

Sometimes I love the month of August and then at other times I hate it.

Oh how great August is and how she loves to joke.

One of the most attractive out of the 12, I must say.

Always suave and caring she is,

yet brave and fearless.

Just like they were.

My parents…

they died August 4th,

due to a tragic fire.

The thing is it wasn’t our house.

They were brave and fearless,

like August.

They were like I used to say when I was little,

“Fire Heroes.”

They saved people,

but who was there to save them.

That night we got a call,

of a 10 story apartment complex that had caught on fire,

starting from the 7th floor.

My dad got the keys and started the engine.

My mom, my only friend really…

She came to me

and promised that she would be back soon,

like she always did.

But like always, before she left, she gave me her “lucky pack of luckys”.

She would always whisper in my ear “take good care of these while I’m gone okay. I’ll be back for them.”

But promises only mean so much when you’re gone now…

That was 5 years ago, tomorrow.

And ironically, this crumbly old pack of stale cigs is the only thing that keeps me sane.

The only thing that gives me hope,

that one day she’ll come back for me.

I know she will, I have to have faith.

I’ts the only thing I have anymore.

Sometimes when I’m feeling down I’ll pull one out and hold it in my hand,

just like she used to.

Oh how she looked so cool.

Her lucky’s were the only thing that made her forget

about the mistakes she made.

About pappy…

From the outside he looks like a sweet, caring, well-rounded gentleman

but on the inside,

he is almost as evil, and stupid, and abusive, and manipulative, and destructive as the devil himself!

Mom always said,

that one day she would find a way to leave him.

I don’t think dying is what she had in mind.

She promised me that when she saved enough money,

we would run away and move to the states.

That’s another dead promise I’m stupidly holding on to.

But who cares if it’s stupid,

I have faith.

“No Body” the reports said.

She can’t be dead then,

but the thing I think about sometimes,

is that if she was alive…

how come she hasn’t found me yet.

How come I’m not in the comfort of her arms again.

How come I’m still holding onto these damn cigarrettes.

I dont know.

But I’ll continue to go to the bench we used to eat ice cream at,

our number one favorite place in the world.

The view was just breath taking.

If she were to come back,

she would be there.

It’s not a matter of if,

but when.


“My Inspiration”

Candy Cigarette — Sally Mann