Perfect Little Monsters and Other Stories

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Perfect Little Monsters and Other Stories Page 6

by Amy Cross


  “I don't want to get away,” I tell her. “I want to go home.”

  “Not to those freaks! You can't be serious, Enda! They're monsters!”

  I shake my head.

  “They're disgusting, foul creatures! They're criminals!”

  “I can't leave Pa,” I reply. “I just can't. He's getting old and he needs me.”

  “He fucking kidnapped you! For all we know, he caused all those crashes! He's probably a murderer too!”

  I shake my head. She's wrong. I understand why she might be suspicious, but she just needed to get to know Pa better. Maybe I should've forced her to stay, but I'm convinced she'd have ended up in the garden of crosses, like my other sisters. Pa's way of doing things maybe isn't working so well these days.

  “And that brother of yours?” she asks. “The way he... Jesus Christ, kid, you can't ever go back there! We're free now, and there'll be people who can take care of you. Maybe you still have family out there!”

  I shake my head.

  “But you don't know that!”

  “My family's at the farm,” I tell her. “They'd have been your family too, if you'd stayed. You'd have gotten used to it eventually.”

  “No,” she says firmly, “I swear to God, I wouldn't. But you'll get used to this world, I promise. You'll come to like it.”

  I shake my head.

  “Fuck, you've been brainwashed,” she continues, holding my arm tighter than ever. “It's okay, just trust me, everything's...” She pauses, as if she's struggling to stay awake. “They're coming to rescue us,” she whispers, before letting her head tilt forward. She mutters something else, but it's clear that she's passing out, and a moment later I look down and see that there's a large blood stain all over the inside legs of her pants. Whatever Brother did to her yesterday, Pa clearly didn't manage to fix it all back together. I don't think it's good for people to lose too much blood.

  I wait, before reaching over and gently tapping the side of her face.

  “Lindsay?” I whisper.

  Silence.

  Carefully, I slip free of her grip and arrange her hands on her lap, and then I sit watching her for a moment. There are tears in my eyes, and I still can't help wishing that she'd agreed to stay at the farm and be my sister. There were so many fun things we could have done together, and I'm certain she'd have grown to like it there over time. I guess it's always hard moving to such a different place, but we'd have made it work eventually.

  Still, I understand why she couldn't wait around and give it a try. It's all Brother's fault. If he hadn't hurt her, she would've liked us more, but Brother ruined everything. I hope Pa never lets him back into the house, and I hope he makes him live with the pigs forever. I've never liked Brother very much, but now I don't even want to be around him. I just wish Pa would do something to fix him forever.

  Suddenly I realize I can hear a sound in the distance, like a kind of repetitive blaring. I lean around the corner and see flashing red lights speeding along the road, and it's pretty obvious that help is about to arrive for Lindsay.

  I turn back to her, and for a moment I actually consider waiting around long enough to make sure that they take care of her. Then again, Pa always said to keep away from other people, and I'm pretty sure he was right. Reaching into my pinny, I take out the necklace and slip it into her right hand, before closing her fingers tight into a fist.

  There.

  Just like it was when I found it.

  “Goodbye,” I say as tears roll down my cheeks. Leaning closer, I kiss the top of her head, and then I get to my feet. “Even if Pa finds me another sister, I won't forget you. You would've been the best.”

  I want to say more, but suddenly I see that the flashing lights are getting much closer, so I turn and run around the back of the building and toward the forest. It'll add time to my walk home, but it's better than running straight across the road, where I might get caught and chased. Ducking down into the bushes, I turn and look back just as a car with flashing blue lights pulls up next to Lindsay. Two men get out, both wearing funny dark clothes, and they start checking that she's okay. I can't hear what they're saying, but I'm sure they'll take good care of her and -

  Suddenly one of the men looks this way. I lean down and wait, with my heart pounding in my chest in case he saw my horrible face. Hearing footsteps coming closer, I hold my breath while burrowing down into the undergrowth, trying to bury myself and seem as small as possible. Someone's definitely getting close now.

  “See anything?” a man shouts.

  “Nah,” says the closer man, sounding as if he's just a few feet away. “Must've been a wild animal or something.”

  I wait, and then I breathe a sigh of relief as I hear the footsteps going away again. After a few seconds, I lean up and see that the two men are helping Lindsay, and they seem to be talking to other people over some kind of phone in their hands. Scared in case I get spotted again, I turn and scurry through the undergrowth.

  By the time I've made my way around through the forest and crossed the road a little further along, I can see another, bigger vehicle arriving to help Lindsay. This one, like the first, also has flashing blue lights on top. I guess they'll take her somewhere safe, and they'll make her okay again. Forcing myself to stop watching, I turn and hurry across the muddy field. The sky above looks stormy, and I can feel more spots of rain falling, so I want to get moving as fast as possible. Pa'll be mad, but he won't get any less mad if I'm slow, so I might as well just face whatever punishment he gives me.

  I want to go home.

  Epilogue

  By the time I get back to the house, a cold wind is blowing rain through the air. The sky is slate gray and desolate, and I can almost understand why Lindsay didn't want to live here.

  Almost.

  When I get to the yard, the first thing I notice is that Pa's truck isn't here. He's probably out looking for me, but he'll be back soon enough. Heading over to the pig-sty, I spot Brother sleeping in the corner, curled up in a puddle of mud. I've usually been able to overlook his worst features and focus on his good side, but right now I feel nothing but contempt for him. Pa always says that Brother will learn, but that never happens. Brother just keeps on being disgusting, and the longer I stare at him, the more I realize that he's the one who ruined everything with Lindsay.

  Suddenly his eyes open and he stares at me for a moment, and then he starts grinning despite the pig muck that's all around his mouth.

  “Where's your sister?” he hisses. “I think I like her better than I like you.”

  “She's gone,” I tell him.

  “Gone?” He pauses. “Nah, that can't be right, Enda. I'm not done with her.”

  “You're the reason she's gone,” I continue, feeling the anger growing in my chest. Usually I can ignore Brother, but this time something feels different. This time, when I tell myself that Pa will fix him eventually, I don't actually believe those words. Brother's going to just keep on being Brother, unless I do something about it.

  He shifts in the mud, but he doesn't get up.

  “Let me in the house,” he says after a moment, his voice sounding slightly slurred. As far as I can tell, Pa's beating seems to have left Brother with a swollen lip, among many other injuries. “Enda, untie me. I wanna go in the house.”

  I stare at him for a moment, before turning and making my way past the edge of the sty and over to Pa's work-shed.

  “Enda!” Brother shouts, as the pigs start oinking. “Get your ass back here and untie me!”

  I look through Pa's tools, before finding a long, thick knife with a jagged edge. My hands aren't shaking like they do sometimes, and I feel sick to the stomach at the thought of letting Pa take care of this. Brother ruined everything with Lindsay, and Brother needs to pay.

  Heading out of the shed, I step over to the side of the pen. Rain is still falling and the pigs are stirring, but they're at the other end of the pen so I clamber over the gate and make my way toward Brother.

&n
bsp; “You gonna cut this rope?” he asks with a grin. “Good girl, Enda. Then maybe we can go find your sister. Maybe there's still time.”

  Kneeling next to him, I look at the rope Pa tied. This is always Pa's answer, whenever Brother does something wrong. He just ties him up out here with the pigs and says he'll learn, but he never learns, and I never get to keep any of my sisters. As much as I want to believe that Pa knows what he's doing, I'm sick of my new sisters always dying or, in the case of Lindsay, leaving.

  “What are you waiting for?” Brother sneers. “Cut me loose, you little bitch!”

  I turn and stare at him for a moment. I know what I have to do.

  “Cut me loose!” he says firmly. “Do it! Before Pa gets back!”

  I look at the rope, and for a moment I consider doing exactly what he wants. Then, finally, I tighten my grip on the knife.

  “Enda!” he hisses. “Just -”

  Before he can finish, I grab his head with one hand and pull it back, while using my other hand to slice the knife across his neck. He cries out and struggles, but the blade hasn't cut very deep so I slice it again and again, driving the serrated edge deeper each time until I feel myself carving through his throat. His whole body is shuddering now and he's trying to cry out, but blood has started erupted from the wound in regular, heartbeat-like bursts, spreading all over my hands as I keep cutting. He reaches up and tries to push me away, but he's already weak and I just cut and cut, carving through until I realize I'm about halfway from cutting his entire head off.

  Figuring I've done enough, I pull away and watch as he flails desperately on the ground. Thick red blood is pouring from his neck and mixing with the mud, and he's clutching at his wound as he lets out a series of gurgled gasps. The color of Brother's blood isn't really that different from the color of the mud.

  Nearby, the pigs have sensed blood and are coming closer. One of them starts licking the large red puddle, and I know it'll only be a few seconds before they realize Brother's going to be a meal.

  Getting to my feet, I climb back over the wall. I freeze as I hear the first sound of Brother's bones being crunched by the pigs, and I realize he's still gasping for air. He'll die soon enough, though, so I jump down from the wall on the other side and start making my way to the front door, figuring I should wait for Pa to get back. He's going to be mad, but for the first time I feel like he's wrong about things. He was wrong about Lindsay, he was wrong about Brother, and he was wrong about all my sisters.

  Stopping suddenly, I look over at the path that leads around the side. Cold wind ruffles my dress as I take a little detour, heading around the garage and then to the back of the house, and then I walk solemnly down the steps that lead to the little patch of bare land that Pa cleared a long, long time ago, before I was even here.

  Stopping, I look at the eleven little wooden crosses. They're all crooked-like, the newer ones especially, 'cause of Pa's shaking hands. Each of the crosses has a strap of old fabric attached to them, blowing in the wind. A piece of bed-sheet here, an old shirt there...

  Pa says it's tradition.

  I wish just one of my sisters had stayed. The way those eleven died, it isn't right, but at least Lindsay got to leave. Somehow she never fitted, not after what Brother did to her. Otherwise I would've agreed with Pa that we should do our best with her, although I suppose she'd probably have ended up buried out here under her own cross. I'd have ended up here too, but somehow I held on and here I am, growing up on the farm.

  Pa says it's 'cause I'm tougher than the average.

  He says it's a shame the rest weren't as strong as me.

  He says I'm good.

  Pa says a lot of things. I used to always think he was right about everything. Now I'm gonna have to untangle it all and work out what he was right about, and what he was wrong about. That's not gonna be easy, it'll make my head hurt, but I'll take my time.

  In the distance, the pigs are still eating Brother's body.

  Suddenly I hear the sound of a car door slamming shut. A shiver passes through my chest, but I know what I have to do. Still, I shouldn't have the knife with me, so I toss it to the ground before turning and traipsing back around the house, walking against the wind until I see Pa coming across the yard, away from the truck. He has eyes like thunder, but he looks strong again, not weak like the other day. After a moment he stops and glances down into the pig-pen, and he stares for a moment before turning to me again. In his eyes, he looks surprised.

  Finally, he starts walking toward me.

  He's gonna beat me for letting Lindsay go, and for what I did to Brother, but that's okay. I deserve it. Then again, now I know Pa's sometimes wrong about things, I think I need to think about it all some more. Maybe I shouldn't let Pa beat me anymore, not if I can stop him, and not if he's just going to keep on making mistakes.

  “Pa,” I say as he gets closer, “I just -”

  Without breaking his stride, he swings a fist at me, hitting me hard on the side of the head and sending me crashing down against the mud. I try to get up, but he kicks me in the chest, knocking the air out of my lungs. Gasping, I turn and try to crawl away, but he slams his boot into my back and pushes me back down, and then he kicks me in the gut, hard enough to make me cry out.

  Flinching, I roll onto my side and look up at him. He's out of breath, maybe tired even. I get to my feet, but even though my chest hurts, I know I have to take this chance. I stare at him for a moment longer, before swinging my fist at his face. I hit him much, much harder than I expected, and he crumples, dropping down to his knees with a shocked look in his eyes. I punch him again, and this time he tips sideways and splashes down into the mud. I know I haven't done enough, so I step closer. He tries to hit me, but I slip out of the way and then I punch the side of his head again, pushing him further into the mud, and then I punch him again, hitting his mouth this time and feeling several of his teeth coming loose.

  I step back, wondering whether I've done enough, before deciding I need to prove my point. Figuring I've hit his head enough, I punch him hard in the gut, and he lets out a gasping, whooshing groan of pain. I pull my fist back to punch him again, but this time he flinches and holds his hands over his face, while whimpering and begging me to stop.

  I freeze for a moment, catching my breath as I look down at him, and as the hungry pigs continue to tear Brother's body apart. Things are gonna be different around here from now on, but one thing that isn't gonna change is that Pa's still gonna go out there and find me a new sister. Except this time, I'm in charge of how she's treated, and this time there won't be any mistakes. There won't be Brother, either, to mess things up. Even as Pa gasps and tries to sit up, I can feel that I've put him in his place. The cold wind is getting stronger now, and the rain is falling harder, but I don't care as I take a step back from Pa's trembling, terrified body.

  My next sister is gonna be a keeper. I'm gonna make sure of it.

  I Hate You

  One

  “I hate it when you yell like that!” I mutter, pushing past Bobby as I head through to the dining room. “I'm not deaf! I can hear you!”

  “Good morning, Molly,” Mom says as she puts a plate of pancakes on the table. “Nice to see you too.”

  “Do we at least have maple syrup?” I ask.

  “They were out at the store.”

  “I hate pancakes without maple syrup,” I point out.

  “We have blueberry jam!”

  “I fucking hate blueberry jam!”

  “Well I'm sure we have something here that you don't hate...”

  “Ugh!”

  “Honey...” Grabbing my arm, she pulls me aside as Bobby carries some plates to the table. “First of all, can you please watch your language? Don't curse like that! And second, your father hasn't had a morning off in over a month, and he probably won't have another before Christmas. He's been under a lot of stress at the factory. Can we just try to have a nice, relaxing family breakfast for once? For his sake?”

&
nbsp; “I have things I need to do!” I tell her.

  “And you can do them after breakfast...”

  “Why can't I just have breakfast in my room?”

  “You can spend all day sitting at that computer,” she continues, clearly not understanding my life. “I'm sure you can spare half an hour first to -”

  “Half an hour?” I reply, widening my eyes with shock. “It doesn't take half an hour to eat breakfast! It's just shoveling food into your mouth, for Christ's sake!”

  “Molly...”

  “This is ridiculous,” I continue, taking a step back. “I hate it when you assume I can just blow my schedule and do whatever you want. Like I don't have a life and things of my own to do!”

  “You're fifteen years old,” she says with a sigh, “and you're on vacation. Exactly what schedule do you have that's so important?”

  “You don't understand,” I tell her, seething inside that she still doesn't get it. God, I hate when she tries to get me to do things like this. It's not like Dad even gives a damn about some stupid breakfast, he'd probably rather be sleeping in when he has a day off.

  “Morning all,” he says, right on cue, as he comes through from the bedroom. Damn, I hate it when he and Mom wander around in their pajamas. They're in their forties, for God's sake. It's totally disgusting.

  “Breakfast's ready,” Mom says, turning to him. “Blueberry pancakes. Your favorite.”

  “Excellent,” he says with a smile. “I love blueberry pancakes.”

  “I'll be in my room,” I mutter, hurrying around the table and making my way past Bobby as he oh-so-obediently sets the table. God, my brother is just a family lap-dog.

  “Molly!” Mom calls after me. “Get back here!”

  “Let her go,” Dad says with a sigh.

  See? Mom won't admit it, but Dad hates me. He doesn't want me at their stinking family breakfast anyway.

  ***

  “Let's see you take a load of this,” I mutter, as I activate the second VPN and tunnel into a remote network on the university's main campus. Tapping at the keyboard, I quickly bring up Sonny Martinez's social media profile. “Asshole.”

 

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