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Fallon is a character in the novel “Flawed” by retired Hollywood actor, B.R. Harwell. This blog chronicles Fallon's fall into corruption after his dreams of becoming a leading man are thwarted by a disfiguring accident. The novel is filled with small town scandal, family secrets, Hollywood glamour, incest and murder. Check out B.R. Harwell's credentials at IMDb.com under his screen name "Bobby Harwell". Then buy the novel @ BRHarwell.com

Friday, June 13, 2008

I coulda been a contender

I have been thinking maybe I should leave this town and go where nobody knows my name. Go to a place where people don't look at me with pity and remember all the great plans I had. Go somewhere that no one knows I was voted "most handsome" and "most likely to be famous" in my high school year book. Maybe if they don't know "I coulda been a contender" maybe they won't look at me with pity. Maybe they will not be drawn to stare at me like the wreckage of a car crash along the highway.

My grandmother lives in California. I do not know her. I saw her a few times when I was little but I don't really remember her. She left town after my grandfather was killed in Vietnam. She left my mother behind to be raised by my great-grandmother, Mama Dee. I have tried to find out more about her, but no one ever wants to talk about it. There had to be some reason for her to leave her only child behind. She now has another daughter that lives out there. I forgot her name, but I guess she is my aunt. Never thought much about that.
Anyway, I think my grandfather was some kind of war hero. You would think they would talk about that but they don't. My mother's family history is all wrapped up and hidden safely away.  Makes me think there is something they are ashamed of. It is hard to keep secrets in a small town. But this small town has that story stored in a locked truck and no one is willing to open it up to the daylight. I never used to bother me that I did not know my mother's family, but now I am starting to get curious.

I think I will try to contact my grandmother. My mother knows how to get in touch. I think they write once in a while. You know, birthdays and Christmas. Stuff like that. I remember seeing a picture of her one time. She was a beautiful woman with the whitest skin and beautiful cinnamon colored hair. I guess that is where I get my red hair...and my mom too. Someone told me she is married to a preacher. Maybe I can start a new life out there. Maybe I will not stand out among all the freaks they have out there.



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