Vicious

by Murphy, A. E.

  There’s a collective gasp that only stops me while I relish in it and let it taper out. Father climbs up and reaches for my arm, he must think I’m distraught but I’m not. Truth be told I’ve never been happier.

  “So I’m going to say what I want to say and then I’m going to get the hell out of this fucking town that destroyed me and everyone I ever loved.” I look directly at the white coffin behind me and declare, “Mee-maw, you’re an old cunt.”

  More gasps ensue and a spluttering Father. Mothers put their hands over the ears of their children.

  “I despised you then, I despise you now and I hope your soul stays locked in your body as maggots and worms feast on you slowly. I hope you feel every single second of the decaying process that helps the earth reclaim you.” I look at the room of familiar and unfamiliar faces who stare back at me in horror. “You don’t know the real mee-maw. You’ll never know the real mee-maw and for that, I envy the fuck out of you all.”

  Then I drop my shades, hop down from the wooden ledge and stride down the center aisle.

  I did it. I said goodbye.

  “Chew on soap you old hag,” I hiss as I slam the glass door behind me.

  9 and a half.

  The half is important.

  “Why did you invite him?” I hiss at Poppy when Kane sits on the wall that lines the ice-skating rink.

  “I didn’t,” she hisses back, glaring at Kane who is now surrounded by his friends. “Mom did I think. She’s friends with his daddy now.”

  Everyone is friends with Kane’s dad. He builds and sells bikes, or somethin’ like that. They own a really big store with like a million motorbikes and about a hundred men always ride through town on these big stupid machines making loads of noise.

  People rush outside to watch them, Grandpa said that they protect our town from bad people but Mee-maw says they are the bad people. Mee-maw said people like us don’t associate with people like them. I don’t know what that means but I’ll listen anyway.

  She said they’re Satan worshippers, but Grandpa said she’s just being a busy body. Grandpa always says that about her when she gets a bee in her bonnet, which is often. Especially now she’s on the church committee and she’s an important person. She’s trying to get motorbikes banned from inside town. I don’t think she knows that Grandpa is a bike enthusiast. I don’t know what that means but I know he loves the bikes and that’s what he calls himself, but it’s our secret. I can’t tell Mee-maw and I never will.

  He lied to Mee-maw about where we were heading just last week to look at a huge bike he called Harley. He said back in the day he rode bikes like this with Kane’s granddaddy, but it was a really long time ago and Kane’s granddaddy is dead now.

  It must be a really long time ago because he’s so old and the picture I saw of him on a bike at home he had a black ponytail. I have never seen my grandpa with anything but silver hair.

  He left me with the machine to go have a drink with Kane’s daddy in the office and that’s when I saw Kane and his friends cycling down the road, an entire gang of them. Kane thinks he’s like his daddy but he’s just a punk kid with the devil in him. I hate him.

  I hid behind Harley as they passed and then ran inside so fast to lock myself in the toilet when I knew Kane couldn’t see me no more. I stayed there until somebody knocked on the door, because they might need the toilet and because I didn’t want to get in trouble, I decided to leave.

  When I opened the door Kane stuck his tatty brown boot in. The toe of it was scuffed and pale, his jeans were torn but then all his pants are torn. He tussles and fights too much with his friends.

  “Thought you could hide from me, Immy?”

  “It’s Imogen!” My hands curled into fists by my side as I backed away from him, wondering if he was going to hit me, or pull my hair, or push me over. “Get out.”

  “Not until you show me your panties.” He grinned and pushed his knotty hair from his face. It’s too long for a boy. Mee-maw said that Satan himself has long brown hair just like Kane and his daddy. “Bobby-Ray said you show him your panties all the time.”

  “Bobby-Ray is a liar and God will punish him.”

  “God ain’t real, Immy. Just like Santa.”

  “Santa is too real!” I yelled, feeling my cheeks heat with that familiar anger that I only ever feel around him.

  “No he ain’t,” he shouted back, grabbing my shoulders and squeezing with his skinny fingers. It hurt, it stayed sore for two whole days after. “Santa ain’t real, the Easter bunny ain’t real, your tooth fairy ain’t real and your momma is a whore that don’t love you!”

  “Don’t talk about my momma.”

  “You’re a dreamer, kid,” he snarled, shaking me so hard my head started pounding. “You’re a dreamer and nobody wants you. You’re shit. You ain’t gonna be shit! You gonna grow up to be a cock sucker just like your momma and nobody gonna love you!”

  “KANE JESSUP!” Kane’s daddy boomed and Kane’s face went from snide to horrified in a second. “WHAT IN GOD’S NAME DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”

  “We were just playing,” Kane lied, turning immediately but his daddy already had his hand in his hair. He threw Kane from the room so hard Kane stumbled and collided with my grandpa who glared down at him like he was nothing but trash. He is trash. The stinkiest awfullest trash.

  “I’m sorry, Regen, I’ll deal with my boy. Y’all know he’s been fucked up no thanks to that useless mother of his.”

  I wanted to know why his momma was useless but I didn’t ask. I just moved to my grandpa and hugged his side.

  “I didn’t do anything,” Kane cried, looking furious, and his daddy smacked him around the back of his head.

  My grandpa and his daddy looked at each other before we all walked away. Kane gave me a hard stare as his daddy grabbed his collar and I knew I was in for it. I knew I was in for it big.

  But I ain’t seen him until now. Haven’t. UGH. I need to speak proper or Mee-maw will make me bite soap.

  He looks at me and sneers as Poppy fixes her light up headband that she just got from me for her birthday.

  “Let’s skate,” she orders, holding out her hand to me and we go around and around, giggling and wobbling on the ice.

  Kane, surprisingly, leaves me alone for the entire night.

  If only the rest of my life could have been the same.

  26 years old

  “A speech fit for a funeral,” a familiar voice rasps as I click the button to unlock my car. My entire body burns with remembrance and hatred. He should be thankful I don’t have my gun on my person right now. “Show me your panties, Immy.”

  I don’t turn, I don’t give him the satisfaction. I have spent too long already staring into those ocean blue eyes, losing myself in them and the array of emotions he often showed. Though only to me. His emotions were only ever mine.

  I’ll not give him a second more. I can’t give him a second more.

  “It’s like that is it?” he asks as I yank open my car door. “Ain’t seen you in years and you’re just gonna drive away?”

  I climb into the driver’s seat, twist the key in the ignition and stare ahead as the expensive as shit engine purrs like a kitten. He has ahold of the door and he’s staring down at me. I can feel his gaze burning my profile like lasers. I can see his thick, shoulder-length hair framing his face. There’s never been a man who suits long hair better than he does.

  We remain like this for the longest time, him staring at me, me staring ahead, car humming, door open, his arm resting casually along the top.

  Finally he steps back, surprising me.

  “Not gonna keep you pinned, babe. You wanna go, you go.”

  I hate it when a lump rises in my throat, and I hate that he knows exactly what to say to make me want to stay.

  With strength I’ve been gathering my entire life since meeting him, I pull the door closed and peel away, leaving tracks in the grass and earth.

  I scream at the top of my lung
s when I get far enough and hit the steering wheel with my palm three times until it feels bruised. I let it all out. What I’m letting out I’m not entirely sure. I’m trembling but I’m also numb. I don’t feel the pain I’m displaying in my outcry but I keep screaming until my voice is hoarse, I yank on the wheel until I feel it might break, only stopping when my phone rings bringing my senses back to me.

  “Did you go?” Webber asks the moment it connects.

  “Yep.” I pop a piece of gum into my mouth and consider stopping for water.

  “How was it?”

  “I called her a cunt.”

  He laughs quietly before finally asking on a serious note, “Did you see him?”

  “Yep.”

  There’s a pause. “And?”

  “I’d still kill him and everyone in this fucking town if I knew it wouldn’t land me in jail.”

  Webber chuckles, a deep and handsome sound. “That’s my girl.”

  12 years old

  “Jesus, Matthew… what happened to your eye?” I ask, racing across the kitchen to see to his swollen, weeping face.

  “Nothing,” he replies, sounding defeated.

  “Was it Kane?”

  “No.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Leave it,” he snaps, moving to the freezer and grabbing a bag of frozen peas.

  “Dear Lord,” Mee-maw gasps, pressing her hand to her chest. “Matthew, what happened to you?”

  Matthew doesn’t reply, he takes the pills I pass him for the pain and swallows them down with half a glass of water that Mee-maw pours and leaves the room with slumped shoulders.

  “That boy…” Mee-maw starts, whipping her cleaning rag against the counter. “How on earth can I take him to church lookin’ like that?”

  I don’t reply because I have nothing nice to say about her question.

  “What is he getting himself into, I wonder?” She pats my cheek with a wrinkled hand. “Why can’t he be more like you? My good girl, getting straight As, spending her time with good and wholesome people. You know I found a packet of marijuana in his pants last laundry load.”

  I nod, I did know because she hasn’t stopped bringing it up, nor has she stopped using God to shame my brother who is suffering right now.

  “May I please be excused?” I ask, hands balling into fists by my sides.

  “Of course.” Her saccharine sweet tone grates on me.

  I walk away, knowing no amount of arguing with her or telling her that she’s wrong will actually change her mind.

  Instead I stomp up to my room which is across from my brother’s and close the door quietly behind me. After diving onto my bed I scream into my pillow and punch it over and over again with my fist. I’m so angry. I’m just angry all the time.

  Poppy-Rose thinks it’s because of hormones, but I think it’s just because my life is so unfair. So unfair.

  I pull out my diary and scribble in it so hard I tear through a page.

  ‘Hate it here. Fucking cunt bitch bastards. Hate them. HATE HER! She’s mean and cranky and nasty. It’s not fair. IT’S NOT FAIR!’

  Then I stick it under my mattress, put away my pen and walk across to my brother’s room. With a tap on the door I call his name, “Matthew?”

  “Not now,” he replies sharply.

  “Why?”

  He doesn’t reply so I return to my own room and scowl at the dolls on the shelves by my window. I don’t even like dolls. Their porcelain faces and weird eyes freak me out. I used to turn them around but Mee-maw got angry and called me ungrateful, said they’re beautiful pieces that I need to learn to appreciate.

  How do you appreciate something so ugly?

  My hidey phone vibrates in my desk. I rush to it, panicking that Mee-maw might have heard it, I must have accidentally set it to vibrate instead of silent. It’s Poppy’s old phone and I connected it to my neighbor’s Wi-Fi after taking their password during a cookout they had last summer.

  Raising it, I smile at the screen when I see Poppy’s name.

  Poppy: Momma just bought me this cute makeup pallet, she said I’m old enough to start playing if I want!

  Imogen: Your momma is so cool.

  Poppy: Why don’t you come round? We can do each other’s faces to one of those tutorial videos online!

  My heart swells with excitement but it’s already four. Mee-maw won’t let me go out now and she’ll wonder how Poppy got in touch with me to begin with.

  Imogen: You know Mee-maw isn’t gonna let me go anywhere now.

  Poppy: I’ll get Momma to ask her.

  Imogen: REALLY?

  I hear the house phone ring minutes later and stuff my cellphone back into its usual hiding spot. I wait anxiously, legs bouncing with anticipation.

  Finally, after some laughter and chatter from Mee-maw, she calls my name.

  “Yeah?” I call back, descending the stairs.

  “Patrice is coming to collect you for dinner.”

  I try not to look too enthusiastic about it. Mee-maw says ladies should handle themselves with dignity and squealing like a piggy is not dignified at all.

  So instead I simply say, “Thank you, Mee-maw.”

  She beams with pride and opens her arms to me. “You make me so very proud, little girl. I wish your mother had an ounce of the goodness in her that you do.” She kisses my head and gives me a gentle push towards the bathroom. “Wash your hands and face, make sure you’re presentable. I’ll give your shoes a shine.”

  “Thank you, Mee-maw.”

  26 years old

  “Don’t you dare! Don’t you fucking dare!” I shout at my car when it starts to make a peculiar choking noise. “You’re new and you just had a service! You don’t get to break on me now! Not here, not now!”

  The car splutters and coughs and a shit load of smoke billows from the engine. I pull over immediately and switch off the ignition. Armed with my trusty little fire extinguisher, I move to the glossy black front and lift the hood. Settling it on its metal arm, I waft away the smoke and look at the beast of a machine. I’m not bad with engines, I’ve tinkered with a few in my time, but I have no idea what is wrong.

  I pull out my phone and call my emergency breakdown cover. They arrange for a tow to come and take me to the nearest garage. I almost laugh at the hilarity of it. The closest garage is owned by Kane’s father.

  I have cash, I’ll bribe the tow guy to take me to the next town over. Anywhere is better than here.

  Imogen: This stupid motherfucking car has broken down!

  I attach a picture of the lingering smoke and exposed engine and send it to Webber. It takes him no time to reply.

  Webber: Shit, that’s not good. It’s a new car.

  Imogen: I KNOW! *sobs*

  Webber: You don’t think he had anything to do with it do you?

  I think back to my meeting with him, meaning Kane, outside of the church.

  Imogen: I wouldn’t put it past him.

  Webber: If he did, don’t worry, you got this. You’re strong and so fucking brave. You can handle anything.

  Imogen: I completely fucking agree.

  I sit in my car and wait, praying that the tow truck isn’t from Faceless, the town where I grew up and just cussed out my dead grandmother in front of those absolute assholes I called my community, my neighbors, my friends.

  When the tow truck ambles down the road, I’m relieved to see it’s an old school friend behind the wheel, somebody I knocked about with back in the day. He also smiles when he sees me, and then laughs when he sees my car.

  “Traded in your bike for a fancy ass car that only men with little dicks drive?”

  “That’s a lot of words in one sentence for you, Ren,” I retort and give him a brief hug. “How have you been?”

  “Good, annoyed that you rolled into town without dropping in on the rest of us folk.”

  Now I almost feel guilty, almost but not quite.

  He pushes his black hair back with a meaty arm guiding his ha
nd. “You look great though, Immy. Really good in fact.” With a lingering look on my body, he points to the truck. “Get in while I hook your shit car up.”

  “Eyes on mine dickwad, and I’m not letting you hook anything up until you promise to take me to the garage in Leander.”

  He lifts a shoulder and smiles apologetically. “No can do, only got enough in the tank to get us back to Faceless Mechanics.”

  “Then go back to FM, fill up the tank and come back and get me. I’ll wait.”

  “Don’t be like that,” he pushes, pouting slightly. “Lotta folks around here that will wanna see you. Make their curious hearts feel inferior for a while, show off your fancy pants and your shiny shoes. Let them see how well you’re doing.”

  “Designer gear doesn’t mean I’m doing well, Ren.”

  “Ain’t you doing well?”

  I smile genuinely. “I’m doing just fine… out of Faceless, where I want to fucking stay.”

  “Potty mouth. Your mee-maw woulda made you chew soap.”

  “I said worse at her funeral.”

  His brows jump and his smile stretches. “Now there’s a story I like the sound of. Come on. I’ll take you the long way round.”

  “Thought you didn’t have enough gas?”

  “I got just enough to park under the water tower and show you what you missed all those years ago.”

  I pull a small can of mace spray out of my bag and point it at him. “I can kick your ass with this, or my fists, you just pick which flavor pain you want.”

  “Still as feisty as you ever were, don’t worry, I ain’t touchin’ you. Not sure about your flavors of pain, but I don’t much fancy having my ass kicked by Kane Jessop. Only just got on his good side after rear ending his classic Challenger.”