Category Archives: Melania

1962 was one of those memorable years for Melanie. She was 12 for it (January birthday), on the cusp of adolescence, her vision widening with every week. That was the summer her parents first let her out of the house … Continue reading →

“I tell you, she was beside herself!” “I would be too. Imagine finding your child like that.” “Linda isn’t exactly a child.” “Oh come on! What is she: sixteen? How would you feel if you found Melanie passed out in … Continue reading →

In April of 1967 she was a senior in high school. What would turn out to be the last gas chamber execution at San Quentin was scheduled. Melanie was against capital punishment. So were most of the students she knew. … Continue reading →

Looking back, it’s now apparent that Melanie awoke to political awareness when she was almost seven, and went back to sleep about it when she was seventeen. And it’s not like she was noticeably political during that decade: just more … Continue reading →

It was never calm in room 312 when Michelle was there. She smoked incessantly and she tossed her lit matches into the round metal waste basket. After the third trashcan fire, Mel had to conclude that Michelle liked the flames. … Continue reading →

There was a posse of guys from Wilmington, but after some sifting three emerged distinct: two Alans and a Moe. The first Alan was brilliant at math and adept at French, and he was just then changing his name spelling … Continue reading →

Well sure Mel has a split personality. Who doesn’t? It’s not a problem unless it’s a problem. She’s always been bright. Very cerebral. And she’s always been fascinated with sex. So she has two strains of relationships: the deviants and … Continue reading →

No lifelong relationships came out of Room 6, but none of them forgot their time together. Melanie’s family moved out of the area at the beginning of her junior year in high school, but she corresponded with a few friends … Continue reading →

Melanie was spending so much time in Room 6 that she was starting to think of it as her own. She had to share it with a few boys, but they weren’t objecting to her little acts of propriety, and … Continue reading →

Her parents were at the front door when she got home. Melanie felt a sudden urge to go, possibly owing to all the beans. “I need the bathroom.” “I knew you wouldn’t use theirs,” said her mother as Melanie edged … Continue reading →