Vicious

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Vicious Page 3

by Murphy, A. E.


  I wince at that. “Surprised you’re still alive.”

  “Naww, he’s not like he used to be.”

  “Don’t, Ren,” I snap, shaking my head. “Don’t.”

  “Sure.” His eyes soften with understanding.

  13 years old

  “Your boobs are so much bigger than mine,” Poppy-Rose declares, pushing hers together by pulling her shoulders in. “It’s so unfair. I started developing way before you.”

  “I’m hardly in a bra, Poppy, there’s nothing there but pointy nipples. Don’t get too envious.” I shake my T-shirt clad chest at her where absolutely nothing moves an inch. I’m like a boy.

  We both giggle and I fall back dramatically onto her bed where an array of magazines rest with parts cut out of them. We’ve been creating a dream board of who we want to be when we’re older.

  I want to be a famous actress and earn loads of money. Poppy wants to marry a wealthy man so she never has to work a day in her life. She decided this after she got a paper run two weeks ago but I took it over after three days because she couldn’t do it. She hated it. I don’t mind getting up early and doing the work, plus I love the money at the end of the week.

  Plus Mee-maw lets me do it thanks to Grandpa stepping in to defend me, telling her that working teaches me good values.

  Mee-maw wants me to marry into a wealthy family and raise my future babies. She said there’s no greater role in life for a woman than keeping her husband and home happy. I don’t want to be anybody’s wife.

  I look at myself in the mirror after sitting up and flutter my mascara lathered lashes. The black tint really makes the hazel of my eyes pop. It almost makes them look green. I’ve always wanted green eyes, there’s no prettier eye color.

  “Let’s go to the old bleachers,” Poppy whispers, an excited look in her eyes. They’re so big and wide, she looks like a cartoon. “Where all the big kids hang out.”

  “Mee-maw will kill me,” I utter.

  “She won’t know. We’ll go for like ten minutes tops. Let’s just go see what all the fuss is about.”

  The thought does excite me. I’ve always wanted to go there. My brother goes there sometimes. I think that’s where he buys his marijuana joints. He still smokes those despite the fact Grandpa gave him the belt the last time he caught him smoking.

  “What if Kane’s there?” I question, wanting to avoid him at all costs. He’s the only person I know who is mean to me. Even now after all these years he still does everything he can to make my life miserable and everybody says it’s because he likes me, but I don’t see it. I don’t want him to like me. He’s gross and dirty, and his hair needs a good comb through. His entire family are rotten and I don’t want to speak to any of them.

  “If he’s there, we’ll go.”

  “Okay,” I say after a brief moment’s deliberation. “Let’s go.”

  She pumps her fist and bites her lip which makes me laugh, then we check ourselves over in the mirror again and head out before her mom can ask us where we’re going. It’s not lying if we don’t have to answer with a lie.

  It takes us a while to get there because it’s so far out of town and for the first two-thirds of the way, we chat animatedly about how exciting this is. For the last third we talk about going home instead but I manage to convince her otherwise.

  “We’re almost there I think,” I whisper as we head towards Buchanan river. I’ve never been but I know it’s around here somewhere.

  We hear loud chatter and playful screaming the closer we get and sure enough we find ourselves fifty yards from a large group of teens all screwing around by the massive body of dark water. The sun will set soon, we shouldn’t have come here. Already I feel uneasy about it.

  “Let’s go,” I say and Poppy nods, grimacing when somebody falls into the lake and everybody laughs.

  We start to run back the way we came, panicking that we might get caught where teenagers are drinking beer and smoking weed. I can smell it in the air even from this far away.

  Poppy grabs my hand as I start to run ahead, she’s not as fast as me so I pull her behind me.

  I stumble on an empty glass bottle and fall to my knees, gasping and panting through the pain. Poppy helps me up and I test putting weight on my leg.

  “Are you okay?”

  I shake my head. “It really hurts.”

  She cringes and my eyes follow hers.

  “Oh no, my skirt,” I say, looking at the tear in the knee and the mud stain. My blood is starting to soak through too. My hearts starts hammering in my throat so hard I don’t hear bikes approaching, wheels spinning on the dry grass, chains turning around metal.

  “SHOW US YOUR PANTIES, IMOGEN!” Kane yells, and I hit the ground again when his hand at my shoulder shoves me hard.

  Three boys bike around us, Kane and his two friends, Ren and Mallick. Mallick is the only black boy in our entire town, I’m not allowed to talk to him but I don’t understand why. Still, I keep my eyes down.

  When I try to stand again Kane climbs off his bike, dropping it without a care, strides towards me and pushes me over once more.

  “Go on, Immy,” Ren jests, grinning from ear to ear. “Show him your panties.”

  Mallick circles us all on his bike, doing wheelies and popping bubbles with a piece of blue gum in his mouth.

  “What is it with you and her panties?” Poppy argues, helping me up again. “Go buy your own.”

  The boys laugh like she’s stupid and I don’t get it. Poppy doesn’t either.

  When I stand, Ren comes forward and grabs a handful of my long grey skirt. “I’ll show you her panties,” he declares and yanks my skirt so hard the top button pops loose and it slips down my thighs.

  I scream and grab at it, tears burning my eyes at the humiliation I feel. Poppy helps me pull it up but we both fall to the ground when Kane tackles Ren and they land in a heap on the floor.

  “What the fuck man?” Ren cries, as shocked as we are.

  Kane’s fist spikes before hitting Ren in the jaw. Why are they fighting? Aren’t they friends? I’d never hit Poppy like that. They roll over and Ren gets a hit in too, I see blood. I don’t know whose blood. I don’t care whose blood, so long as they are hurting each other and not me.

  “Come on,” Poppy hisses and we run again but I struggle to hold my skirt up. I’m a mess.

  We don’t talk, we don’t try to explain it to each other, we just run and run until we can’t anymore.

  “Mee-maw is going to kill me,” I whisper, looking at the state of myself. “What do I tell her?”

  “That you were playing on my bike and fell off?” Poppy suggests. “We can’t tell her about Kane because he might tell her where we were. He knows we’re not allowed past the grocery store.”

  I press my lips together. I never tell Mee-maw about Kane anyway because she just tells me it’s my fault and I shouldn’t look at him and maybe he wouldn’t bother me. She says I must be doing something to get his attention but I’m really not.

  We rush home despite the pain radiating through my leg. I mostly hop which hurts my other leg but I can get through it. Pain doesn’t bother me. I’d rather feel the pain of my leg than be locked in my bedroom and grounded for two weeks.

  Poppy leaves me at the end of her street because we figured if we showed up without her bike my mee-maw would ask how I fell off it if it wasn’t with us which would lead to more lying. Truthfully, I’m hoping she’s busy so I can sneak up to my room, get rid of my skirt and pretend like I don’t know where it is. Maybe she’ll think it was stolen from the clothesline in the yard. It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened. This will be the first time I’ve lied about it though. Not that it’ll be my first lie, I can’t say I’m the most honest person but Mee-maw gets so mad about so many things.

  I jump the low fence lining the back yard, she’s less likely to be in the kitchen at this time so I slip in through the back door and leave my scuffed shoes by the refrigerator. My breath sounds s
o loud in my ears as I creep through, sock clad feet on the black and white tiled floor.

  “Imogen, is that you?” Mee-maw shouts, sounding cheery and saccharine as per usual.

  I run-hop to the bathroom as quickly as my injured leg will carry me and slam the door shut louder than I anticipated. Her feet follow me, I hear them getting closer and I start scrubbing the mud from my hands and arms.

  “Imogen?” she calls through the door and raps her knuckles against it.

  I can’t breathe right, my chest feels tight, like a fist has reached down my throat and is gripping my airway.

  “I’m just using the toilet, Mee-maw,” I lie, teeth chattering.

  There’s silence for a moment and then the door opens regardless, revealing the barren toilet and me standing wide-eyed at the sink with suds up to my arms. I grip the soap bar too tightly and it slips out of my hand and lands in the basin.

  “I fell off Poppy’s bike,” I explain in a rush as her blank, steely gaze takes me in.

  “Your skirt,” she breathes. “Your brand new, beautiful—” Her hands go to the broken top button and her face becomes red and angry. Her entire body trembles and her voice gets deep and hoarse. “What have you been doing?”

  The way she asks me sounds demonic and I gulp audibly.

  “N… nothing, Mee-maw. Honest. I f…fell off Poppy’s bike and hurt my knee.”

  She grabs my hair and twists me, revealing my dirt covered back.

  “WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING?”

  “NOTHING!” I implore. “Honest, Mee-maw. We were just playing!”

  “You’re lying,” she hisses, grabbing my hair so hard my scalp burns making me whimper. “Your skirt is torn, you’ve mud all over your back. You’ve been with a boy!”

  “What?” I shriek, tears filling my eyes. “No! Mee-maw! No!”

  “Don’t you lie to me, little girl. I can always tell when you lie! You’re as terrible at it as your mother was and still is. Look at the state of you. How will any man respect you now? You’re a child and already you’re fornicating with Satan.” She drags me into the hall, ignoring my begs and pleads for her to let me go. “You’re a dirty, dirty girl. You will be punished. You will not be like your mother!”

  “NO PLEASE I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” I scream as she drags me up the stairs. My mee-maw is old but she is strong. Not that I dare fight her back, she’s my mee-maw. “Please, Mee-maw. Please. I didn’t do anything.”

  “You’ll not be allowed to venture out with that girl. I’ll be telling her whore of a mother what she’s been teaching you! I knew I shouldn’t have let you play with her. Girls without fathers are a menace to society.”

  She throws me into my bedroom, making me stumble on the rug.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I sob, tears flowing freely now. “Please, Mee-maw. I didn’t do anything.”

  “Your virginity is your virtue. It is for your husband! God has willed it!”

  “Mee-maw, noooo,” I screech, twisting out of her grasp when she yanks down my skirt. “Please no! Please. I swear, I didn’t do anything. I fell over. That’s all. We were playing!”

  She hits the back of my bare thigh with her hard-bottom slipper and the sting makes me scream.

  “STOP CRYING!” she bellows at me, hitting me again, her hand tangled in my hair once more. She whips that slipper through the air and I lift my leg as she brings it down on my other thigh. I take about five hits before I drop to the floor and grip my discarded skirt, holding it against my chest. She stops hitting me and just breathes heavy as though the exertion was too much.

  With a whimper she moves to the wall and leans against it.

  “How could you shame us like this? We took you in so you wouldn’t go into care and this is how you shame your family?”

  I hiccup and look at my mee-maw who now looks so sad and frail despite her youth and usual strength.

  “I’m sorry, Mee-maw,” I whisper because I don’t want her to be sad. I don’t want her to be hurt by my actions. “Are you okay?”

  “My heart,” she whispers, clutching her chest. “I can’t take the same heartache your mother put me through. I need you to be the good one. I need you to be everything she wasn’t. I want you to be a young lady I can be proud of.”

  “I’ll try, Mee-maw,” I breathe, wiping my eyes on my arm. “I’ll be good.”

  “You’re never to see that girl again. You’ll only befriend the people I choose; do you understand?” She levels me with a cold look that I daren’t argue with. Though I open my mouth, ready to tell her that I don’t want to lose my only real friend, and instead close it and nod.

  “Okay, Mee-maw. I promise.”

  “Good girl.” She holds out her hand and I rise and move to her side, limping on my hurt leg, rear and thighs swollen from the beating. I hug her and sob into her side, accepting her comfort and warmth. She kisses my head. “I love you very, very much.”

  “I love you too, Mee-maw.”

  26 years old

  “Found the stray just outta town,” Ren calls when he drops down from the truck. “One of our own. Though she’ll deny it till she’s purple in the face.”

  Rolling my eyes, I push open the door after spying a coffee machine, one of those fancy vending types, and climb down, taking Ren’s hand because my heels aren’t fit for this sort of drop.

  “Atta girl.” He winks at me and catches my eyes when I look around the mess of broken bikes and cars and the few men working on them. “He’s probably at your mee-maw’s wake.”

  “I wasn’t looking for him,” I lie and pull my hand free of his dry grip.

  “Damn… is that you, Imogen Hardy?” a man with red hair and freckles calls. I used to go to school with him too but I don’t remember his name. “You know Kane almost had us all convinced you were dead or somethin’.”

  That makes my heart beat a wild thump, sending a jolt of adrenaline through my already tense body.

  “Don’t leer,” Ren snaps. “Get back to work.” He dips his head and grins at me. “Coffee?”

  “I can get my own.”

  “You sure? Got some of those fancy pod things in the office if you’d rather one of those. Truth be told don’t know when that coffee machine there was last cleaned.”

  Just great. I can’t go another hour without coffee, that’s assuming my car takes that long to fix.

  “That actually sounds good,” I reply quietly and follow him through. He barks at somebody else to drop my car and fill his tank but I don’t pay much attention. Instead I try for a Wi-Fi signal. “Can I have the password?”

  “Sure, it’s written on that yellow paper by the computer screen.” He points in the general direction and switches the coffee machine on at the wall.

  I make my way over and input the jumbled letters and numbers into my phone. Then I plug my phone into one of the stray cables and let it rest on the desk.

  “Make yourself at home,” he jests, his smile easy and handsome.

  “You’ve still got that scar I gave you. It’s small, but it’s there.” I motion to his upper lip at the corner where stubble doesn’t grow.

  “I have.” He touches it absentmindedly and his smile gets wider. “I deserved it.”

  “You did.”

  We share a light laugh and then I turn my attention to the few photos on the wall behind the computer. I smile at the first one, it’s of Kane and his father when Kane was an awkward teen. The next one has my smile fading because I’m in it. I look so happy and carefree, so at ease with my life. I was such a good pretender.

  After a moment he hands me my coffee. It’s warm and the cup is clean and it tastes delicious.

  “I’ll get started on your car.”

  “How long will it take?” I ask.

  He grins and rolls his eyes. “I ain’t looked at it yet.”

  “Right, well… I’m going to wander.”

  “In those shoes?”

  Pressing my lips together, I stand and glower a
t him. “Go fix my car.”

  “Yes ma’am.” He tips an invisible hat and backs out of the room. Meanwhile I play on my phone, answer emails and messages and search Google for cabs in the area wondering when I became a ma’am.

  The temptation to go through drawers is almost unbearable. I want to search for any information on Kane and what he’s been up to all these years. Well… search for stuff I don’t know already.

  I don’t. I’m not that psychotic.

  I do however finish my coffee, stand and decide to go to my car, get my flats and walk until my car is fixed. I can’t be here. The room even smells like him. Like leather and car oil and sweet, musky aftershave.

  Closing my eyes, I recall every time I got to inhale his scent. It was like a drug to me. He was a drug to me. A dangerous, soul destroying drug. The catalyst of all my worst moments.

  With a frustrated growl, I exit the room, yanking on the door and making the open venetian blinds rattle against the square glass window. I move to my car while Ren is poking around in the engine. He looks up so I motion for him to unlock the car using my keys. He does so and goes back to his job while I open the trunk and rummage through my suitcase. I wasn’t planning on staying but it’s a long ass drive, seventeen hours to be exact. I was going to fly but I couldn’t find a flight out on the same day and securing a rental for after I landed would have been too much hassle. So I packed and took a road trip. I love road trips, it’s been a while since I went on a road trip.

  Now I wish I’d flown.

  As I’m pulling on my flat black pumps, a car rolls into the lot behind me and I don’t know how I know it’s him but I do. I’ve always been hyperaware of his existence on this plane, especially when he’s nearby. I swear I’d know if he died even if he were a million miles away. Though I wouldn’t come and cuss him out at his funeral, I would dance on his grave. I absolutely would. Then I’d sit back against his headstone, have a gin and tell him to go fuck his own corpse.

 

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