My character's Memoir for Theatre [doyle]

My name is Kathryn Marie Breeze, but I go by Marie. I have no idea what the meaning of my name is, nor have I ever been interested in it. My maiden name was Farnsworth, but I do not claim that name with pride. I was named three days after I was born by my mother's sister, Michelle. My mother never thought of a name for me, so my aunt took it upon herself to give me one. She named me after my grandmother, Katie, and my great-grandmother, Maria. I've never really liked my name, because it's not creative or interesting.

I currently live in a one bedroom apartment in Pascagoula, Mississippi with my two younger sisters, Tegan and Emily. Our apartment is small, but quaint. The walls are white with almost no decoration, and it's kind of boring. It almost gets depressing how plain our apartment is, but as long as I have my sisters there to liven things up I'll be okay. I'm fond of my hometown... It's not too bad. We live pretty close to the beach, and my sisters and I try to go there as much as possible, even when it's cold outside. I grew up in Pascagoula, and even though I keep telling myself that I'll leave one day, I'm afraid I'll never have the courage to leave everything behind since I've grow to love it so much here.

The earliest memories I have of my childhood are the ones that I'm not very fond of. I had to learn to cook, clean, and pretty much take care of myself by the age of eight, since I had no one to do it for me. My mother was usually too high to bother with me or passed out from drinking too much. My father was a drug dealer, who wasn't home most of the time. I can still remember the first time I witnessed my mother doing drugs. I was in the 1st grade and I came home to find her in my bedroom with another man, snorting a white powder. I never said anything about it, and by the time I was old enough to understand the full extent of my mom's addiction, I had already lost all respect for her.

I was six years old when Emily was born. I didn't even know my mom was about to have a baby until about a month before she was born, since I didn't really know what pregnancy was at the time. I was excited to have a baby sister, and I loved her from the moment I laid eyes on her. Emily was a beautiful baby, but she looked nothing like me. We had different fathers, which I didn't find out until I was about 12, because my mother was still married to my father when she had Emily. I was protective of my little sister and had a strong bond with her, and we never once fought about anything like most sisters do.

I was about 9 years old when I tried to run away from home. My mother and I never got along, whenever she was coherent enough to notice my presence. One time, we got into a huge argument, and even though I can't remember what it was about I can still remember what she said. I remember that it was the day she told me I was a mistake, and that I was the reason she was on drugs. She told me that it was my fault that her life was filled with so many problems, and that she hated me. I was only 9, but I decided that I had had enough of her nonsense. That night, I packed a pillowcase full of clothes and food, kissed Emily on the cheek and told her I loved her, and then I left. I had no idea where I was going, and I didn't get very far. I ended up sleeping in the park by my house, and my aunt came to pick me up two days later because apparently she knew that's where I would be. My aunt was always coming over to visit, and I guess she got worried when my mother didn't know where I was.


Only a month after I tried to run away, Emily and I found out that we had another little sister on the way. Her name was Tegan, and she looked almost exactly like I did when I was a baby. It was strange that we looked so much alike, since I looked like my father, and she had a different father than me just like Emily did. After my dad found out that my mother was pregnant by another guy again, he left. It didn't affect me very much though, because I never saw him much while growing up. The only thing I hated about having him leave, was the fact that my mother's drug abuse got worse when he didn't come back.


Less that a year after Tegan was born, my mother and I got into another bad fight, one that was much worse that the first. I didn't try to run away this time, though. I just called my aunt and asked her to come and pick me up. She did, and I was so upset that I told her everything that had been going on in my house and how I felt about it. She was surprised, and she said she didn't know that things had gotten so bad for me. That was when she promised me that she would get me out of that house, along with my sisters. She then got custody of me and Emily, and after about a year she finally got custody of Tegan. Aunt Michelle lived in a three bedroom house, so I shared a room with Emily while Tegan got her own bedroom.

When I was in the 6th grade, I met a girl named Anna Greene. Anna transferred to my school from Michigan, and she sat behind me in my homeroom class. As Anna and I got to know each other, we realized how much we had in common. She came from the same background as me, and her mom was a lot like mine. We became best friends, and we confided in each other about everything. I was so happy to finally have some one who understood what I was going through, and someone that I could trust. I loved her as much as I loved my own sisters, and to this day we're still best friends.

When I was a 17 years old, my life changed forever. I met a guy named Tyler Edward Breeze at a concert in Biloxi. I was standing in the crowd, when some tall guy ran into me, knocking me down to the floor. I was afraid I was about to get trampled, when I felt someone pulling me back up. I turned around and said "thank you" to a guy with strawberry blonde hair and hazel eyes. He smiled and said, "No problem, I'm Tyler. You're Marie, right?" which surprised me, since I thought I had never seen him before. I answered him with "yes" and then stared at him like he was crazy until he told me that he was one of Anna's friends, and that he had seen me with her before.

Tyler and I started getting to know each other more and more as time passed, and on June 14, 2005 we started dating. I loved everything about Tyler, and he made me the happiest I had been for my entire life. We had been dating for two years when he finally asked me to marry him on August 28, 2007. We got married on October 14, 2007 and bought a house together in Moss Point, Mississippi. Tyler was the sweetest guy in the world, and he was always happy. I loved living with him, and things were going great until April 23, 2008, when everything changed.

I was working at Wal-Mart at the time, and I had just got home from work when I noticed that Tyler's car was out front, but he was nowhere to be found. I searched everywhere else in the house until I noticed that the bedroom door was closed. I went into the bedroom and collapsed at the sight of my husband lying on the floor, when a note in one hand and and two empty bottles of pills in the other. I checked to see if he was breathing, and he wasn't. I called the police and tried to tell them what happened as calmly as I could. I was so in shock that I was shaking, and I could barely breathe. I didn't understand how it could be happening, I had just talked to him an hour before I got home and he was fine. I really thought that things were getting better for me when I married Tyler, but I know now that nothing good ever lasts for me.

His funeral service was dreadful, and I could barely keep myself together. His parents only showed up for a few minutes, but they left because they couldn't stand to be around me. They blamed me for his death, as did many other people. I can't even imagine what drove him to do it, to leave me behind like he did. Suicide is a complicated thing. I loved him so much, but at the same time I hate him for what he did. I feel selfish for saying that, but no one could ever even begin to understand how much pain he left behind for me. The note that he left was pointless. All it said was "I love you, Marie. And I'm sorry..." Sorry? He was just sorry and that's it. I started having really bad anxiety problems after Tyler died and I went into a deep state of depression for a while. After everything I've been through, losing him was probably the hardest thing I've ever dealt with.

After Tyler died, I moved out of our house in Moss Point and sold it. I couldn't stand being in that house alone without Tyler there. I moved in to a one bedroom apartment back in Pascagoula. Not too long after that, Aunt Michelle started getting really sick and couldn't take care of Tegan an Emily anymore. They moved in with me, which was probably the best thing that happened to me that year. Having my sisters around always makes everything a thousand times easier. I love being in their company, and we're always there for each other. My sisters are my best friends, and they're all I care about right now.

My future seems a thousand miles away from me right now. Every day keeps going by slowly. I only hope that things get better soon. I want to be able to take care of my sisters and do what's best for them. My number one goal is for them to be happy, and for me to keep myself happy, no matter how hard it might be. I know that someday I'll be able to escape from this place and start a new life, and I'm just waiting for that day to come.