“No problem,” I interrupt. Desperate to get out of the house and stop listening to her ramble on about things I don’t care about.
“Good girl. Come and collect the money on your way out. Dress nicely now.”
I pull a face at her back and do what I’m told. I pull on a pink dress that’s getting too small in the chest. My breasts are so much bigger than they were last year.
I cringe at the frills on the long sleeves and yank at the armpit where it feels too tight.
I wish I could wear normal clothes, shorts and whatever else. I’m fourteen and a half, my clothes are what a five-year-old would wear.
Sighing, I slip on my socks, some clean panties and head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. I’ve lost weight, I’ve been bored in my room so I’ve been watching videos on how to fight and Mee-maw hasn’t let me have breakfast or snacks for about a week. It’s all part of my punishment for missing curfew. Though dinner I must attend because family dinners are important for a family dynamic and appearances. We often have guests for dinner.
Appearances mean everything to her.
“Mee-maw,” I say as I reach the bottom stair. “My clothes are getting too small.”
She takes one look at me and hums thoughtfully. “Well that just won’t do.”
“Do you think this time I can get some jeans, and shirts like what my friends wear?”
“But those dresses and skirts look so good on you.” She tugs on the front of said dress and sighs heavily. “I guess we will have to go shopping this week. Do you have something for school tomorrow?”
I lift a shoulder. “I have my gym clothes, they still fit.”
“Yes, yes, they will do just fine.” She hands me a few dollars and waits for me to slip on my flat shoes. “A dozen eggs, the free-range, not Kenny’s barn raised. They don’t have quite as nice a taste to them.”
“Okay.” I head out into the warm air and smile at the blue sky.
Ah sweet freedom.
Mee-maw waves as I go and I give her a slight wave back before running as fast as my legs can carry me. Every step I take I inhale a deep, fresh lungful of air. I wish I’d called Poppy first, I might have been able to meet her for a little while but if Mee-maw finds out she’d tan my behind.
I huff. I wish I could be like Matthew. I wish.
“Morning little lady,” Martin, the grocery store owner calls when the bell rings as I step inside. It’s cool in here, fresh and crisp from the clean store and the overhead air conditioning. “How’s your mee-maw doin’? You’re looking well. Getting older I see.”
He leers at me in a way a man his age has never leered at me before. I don’t exactly know what it means but I do know that I don’t like it. It makes me feel like bugs are crawling along the top of my skin.
“She’s good. She just sent me for some of those free-range eggs you stock. Do you have a dozen?”
“You’re in luck, last two cases are right here.” He pats the almost empty box at the end of the counter and grins at me, showing two missing teeth from his bottom row. “Is that all you need?”
Nodding, I approach and hand him the money. He rings it through the old till and slides my money and eggs along the counter.
“You know I used to serve your momma back in the day too. You’re her spitting image,” he comments, giving me the same look as before. “She used to help me in the shop to earn some pocket money for herself. I’m sure we could work out a similar deal, as a favor to your momma and the good old days.”
I bite on my lip and consider it. I don’t make much doing my paper route because Mee-maw takes all my money. “What would I do?”
“Mop the floors, stock the shelves, things like that.” He rubs his jaw, peering down his nose at me with excitement in his eyes. “Washing windows and the likes. Nothing too strenuous. I’ll pay you three dollars an hour.”
My heart starts hammering in my chest and my happiness grows. “Really?” Mee-maw would let me work; she wouldn’t have a choice. I could tell her he’s giving me two dollars an hour and pocket the rest. Or even one dollar. Would she believe that? “When can I start?”
“Soon as you like,” he replies as I pocket my change and pick up my eggs.
“Tomorrow? I need to tell my mee-maw first.”
“Absolutely.”
“Thank you, Mr. Martin. I’ll be back as soon as school is finished.”
“See you then, little lady.”
I leave the store with a skip in my step, cradling the carton of eggs along one arm.
I’m on such a happy cloud that I failed to notice Kane, Ren, and Mallick in the vicinity. They’re now following me down the long road on their bikes. I keep my head low.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” Ren asks, balancing on his skateboard at a really slow speed as Mallick does wide circles around us on a bike and Kane flanks me on the other side on his. He thinks he’s so cool with his leather jacket, and red skulls and fire painted along the black frame of his stupid bike.
“You look like one of those creepy girls from the horror movies. That one in the hotel,” Kane puts in and they all laugh.
“It’s called The Shining, I think,” Ren finishes and Kane nods, his jaw moving as he chews on a piece of gum. His blue eyes flash dangerously when my eyes meet them.
“Whatchu looking at?” he asks, dropping his bike to harass me on foot.
“I need to get back to Mee-maw,” I say softly, ducking and trying to sidle past him but he snatches the eggs from my arm and holds them above his head. “Kane. Please.”
“Show me your panties and you can have them back.”
“Last time I showed you her fuckin’ panties and you punched me in the jaw,” Ren retorts, laughing as though it’s hilarious. “You either wanna see them or you don’t.”
Kane holds my eyes and steps closer so we’re chest to chest. “That wasn’t because of that.”
“So… I should do it again?”
“Naw,” Kane snaps and an evil glint sparks in his eyes. “Apparently she already showed Mallick, didn’t she, Mallick?”
Mallick doesn’t respond, he just keeps circling as he always does.
Kane gets so close I can feel his minty breath on my lips. “Who the fuck said you could kiss my friends?”
“Who told you—?”
“Everyone told me. Everyone has been talking about it. Especially Mallick, right Mallick?”
Mallick doesn’t look at me. I thought we were cool. I thought we might have been more than cool.
“RIGHT MALLICK?” Kane yells but his eyes hold mine and he gets so close our foreheads touch.
“I heard him,” Ren puts in and Mallick shakes his head. He doesn’t want to be here anymore than I do.
“Heard you let him touch your titties.”
“I did not,” I gasp, folding my arms across my body. “Why do you care anyway?”
Kane shrugs and steps back, grinning evilly as he opens the carton of eggs.
“What are you doing?” I ask nervously, hands clenched and shaking as I hug myself.
“You don’t kiss my friends,” Kane hisses, narrowing his ugly blue eyes. “You don’t kiss anyone.” He brings an egg down onto my head with his palm. It cracks and the gooey middle slides down the side of my head and over my ear. It hurt too but I try not to react beyond a wide-eyed, humiliated stare.
“OOOOOOH!” Ren cries and catches the egg Kane tosses his way. He smiles evilly and throws one at my chest, it hits my breast with a hard thud but cracks on the ground at my feet.
“STOP!” I scream when Ren throws his and it hits me on the shoulder. That one doesn’t crack either but it really hurts.
I drop to my knees as the assault continues but now they’ve learned to push their thumbs into the eggs before tossing them so they crack on impact.
I cover my head with my arms, listening to the sound of my breathing until the very last egg is cast. I count every hit, including the ones that missed.
R
age comes pouring out of me as their laughter echoes through my mind.
I lose it. A haze of red-hot lava distorts my vision and with a battle cry worthy of the big screens I grab Ren’s discarded skateboard and charge at them. Kane’s eyes go wide the second before I hit Ren across the face. Blood sprays through the air in dark red droplets that seem suspended in slow motion and Ren hits the floor with a grunt. I don’t stop, I charge at Kane and swing but he blocks it with his arm. He cries out in pain and shoves me and the board away from him.
I keep going. I kick him between his legs so hard his eyes bulge out of his head. He goes down too but I can’t control it. Hot, angry tears fall from my eyes as I climb on top of him and smack him and punch him in the face and chest and neck. My hands, arms, fingers, body all ache as I unleash every ounce of my anger onto him.
He fights for control, grabbing my wrists but his arm is limp and useless. He’s bleeding on his cheek from my scratches, he has a swelling under his eye but I can’t stop.
I want to kill him. I want to stop him from breathing but I run out of energy. I’m completely out of steam.
He rolls me over, grabbing my wrists with one hand and pinning them above my head. I don’t fight him I just cry and cry, and sob, and choke.
“I hate you,” I say, channeling every single memory I have of the torment he has put me through. “I hate you. I hate you. I wish you would just die.”
Kane’s eyes roam over my face and for a flicker of a moment I see something other than his usual angry, evil self. I see… something tender.
Still, I push him off me and look at Ren who is bleeding badly from the mouth.
Kane starts laughing maniacally, he rolls onto his back and looks up at the sky as his friend gargles on blood and I pick myself up.
“Bitch broke my arm,” Kane declares, still laughing like it’s all so hilarious. “Fuck. That hurts.”
I start to walk away, and then I start to run, keeping my tear blurred eyes ahead. They don’t say anything to me or come after me and I don’t stop going until I’m home.
I sob all the way there, chest constricting, heart pounding painfully, eyes burning, blood in my palms from where my nails have dug through my flesh.
“You took your time,” Mee-maw comments when I walk in. She hasn’t seen me yet.
I run upstairs, grabbing the key off the hook on my way up and I lock my bedroom door from the inside to delay the telling off and beating I’ll get. She has another key, she’s organized, but at least I can vent in my diary while she fetches it.
I scribble on the pages, cussword after cussword, capitals and lower case. I press so hard I dig through the paper in some places, leaving gouges in the blank sheet beneath.
“You open this door right now,” Mee-maw demands, hammering it with her fist. “Where are my eggs?”
Throwing my diary across the room, I stomp to the door, twist the key and swing it open so hard it bounces off my desk behind it.
“All over my fucking body!” I scream at her, unable to control my temper. “NOW LEAVE ME ALONE!”
I slam the door in her astonished face and mentally prepare myself for the slipper. But instead she walks away and the beating doesn’t come. Instead, an hour later she brings me a glass of warm milk and a small slice of the cake she baked. She must have gotten more eggs from somewhere.
We don’t talk about what happened and for that I’m relieved. Every time I think about it I cry. If I talk about it, I’ll only cry harder.
She does however impart some wisdom on me. Wisdom I’ll never forget.
“Unassuming girls don’t get hurt.”
I wanted to disagree and reply that strong girls don’t get hurt. That’s why I’m hurt, it has nothing to do with how I look and everything to do with how weak I am. But instead I just cried again and trembled and she stroked my hair with tenderness and love.
26 years old
I don’t know what made me come here. I never got the urge before but seeing the two-story home that I grew up in, riddled with weeds and dirty shutters hanging from the windows, scratched and flaking paint, the porch swing is broken too, it satisfies me in some deep and disturbed way.
I guess after Mee-maw lost Grandpa and then me, she stopped looking after the place and herself.
I want to spit on the ground but instead I approach the door and open it. It’s a mess from the wake. Mom is alone, cleaning up plates and cups, sniffling like she has a right to mourn the mother who abused her as badly as she abused me.
She looks up with familiar, sad eyes and drops the trash bag. When she moves to me, looking for comfort I sidestep out of the way. I’ll never forgive her for what she did, or more aptly, didn’t do.
She looks solemn and defeated and goes back to her cleaning. “It’s late. Are you staying? I thought you’d be halfway back to your life of grandeur by now.”
“I’m not staying, I’m just waiting for my car to be fixed.” I sniff dryly, there’s too much dust in here. Mom could have cleaned before she hosted people but she always was a lazy bitch. “You look like shit. You need a better surgeon. He’s butchered your face.”
“You’re such a bitch.”
“Gotta be raised with love to know how to display love,” I retort, looking at her ballooned cheeks and eyebrows which are uneven from botched Botox. “Was a life of filling yourself with plastic more fulfilling than being a good mother to me and Matthew?”
She starts to wail, dropping to her knees like a class A actress.
“Oh go pop a Xanax,” I snap at her, grabbing the bag and making myself useful.
“You’re so mean.”
I laugh coldly. “It’s how I was raised, but then you know that better than anyone.”
She picks herself up and we work side by side to get the old cunt’s house back to near pristine. It takes another hour and I know my car isn’t going to be fixed until tomorrow. I brought it on myself by spraying Kane in the eyes. I’m not sorry. He deserved it.
“Hungry?” Mom asks, pointing her thumb towards the kitchen. “There’s so much food left.”
I head that way and start tearing through the wrapped containers and dishes. That’s the only good thing I remember about my childhood, the food.
We tuck into everything, digging forks and spoons into each dish. Mixing pie with casserole and potatoes, then blending the desserts in our stomachs until we can’t eat another bite.
There’s a loud knock at the door. I’d know that knock anywhere.
Rolling my eyes I nod towards the entrance hall and demand harshly, “Be a good mother and get rid of him.”
“Who?” she questions, eyes round with intrigue.
“Who do you think?”
Her lips form a circle. “Kane? Is that Kane Jessop?”
I nod.
“How can you tell?”
“I just can. Now please go tell him I ain’t here.”
“Can’t,” she responds, looking at a spot above my shoulder. She points there with the spoon in her hand and I sigh while turning slowly. Of course he’s not just going to stop at the front door.
Standing beyond the kitchen window with red, bloodshot eyes is none other than Kane Jessop. He smirks and lifts his hand, I’m about to flip him the bird when I see the hammer he’s about to bring down on the glass.
“OKAY!” I yell, standing and showing him my palm. “I’ll talk to you.”
He nods, eyes sore but lit with that maniacal excitement that is so him and moves away from the glass squares. I see a glow in the dark as he lights something close to his face with an orange flame.
“That boy is still so psychotic.” Mom hisses and I hum my agreement. “He should be in jail.”
“Oh believe me,” I utter, going into the hallway to slip on my shoes, “he absolutely should.”
14 years old
Kane came to school today with a black cast on his broken arm, he’s been off all week. He wasn’t kidding when he said it was broken. How he didn’t cry I don’t kn
ow because that must have really hurt.
Still, I raise my chin and carry onward, ignoring the whispers around me of what happened that day. The rumors about it are insane. According to other kids Kane and Ren saved me from getting my ass beat by muggers. Other rumors are that they tried to rape me. Others are saying I lured them into the bush and jumped them with a bunch of guys.
I can’t keep up to be honest and I’m not about to try. Their phony concern and enthusiasm make me nauseous. They’re just being nice to me to get the information and I’m admitting nothing.
And to add a cherry to the top of an already awful day, my locker has been vandalized at some point during my first two classes. It’s not the first time and I doubt it will be the last.
‘You’ll get it.’
That’s what they wrote in red ink, I assume the red is symbolic of blood. I almost roll my eyes at the lack of creativity.
Matthew starts to scrub it off with the sleeve of his shirt but it’s dry as desert sand and is not budging.
He looks around, glaring at those who have come to see my reaction. I’m not giving them one.
“Fuck off,” he yells, squaring up to all of them like he can take them all on. Though these days I reckon he could. He’s been working at a plantation just on the outskirts of town and he’s really beefing up.
Meanwhile I started my job at Martin’s grocery store. It’s not as hard as I thought it would be. He mostly just has me doing everything he said, and Mee-maw is happy with the arrangement because she knows him. Though she asked him to give my money directly to her and my heart sank.
It soon lifted again when he told her he’d be paying me a dollar fifty an hour and at the end of that shift he promised me he’d give me the rest at the end of each week. He knows what’s up and I’m so grateful for that.
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