I stand hiding in the dark, almost holding my breath while my father tells the man on the door "Go away you perv!". A sentence he has been versed on over the last years. My mother stands next to him, not saying a word but with an intimidating look on her face, a mask she is wearing to drive these men off. In reality I can feel her pain and weakness to over here. And although this has become a routine in our house I know every time it happens it's hurts her more.
Who these men are? They are my toys.. or I am theirs, I don't know. What I know though is that one text message when I feel alone is enough to make them come running like dogs. Come running to my house the see Tommy Maxwell's slutty widow. By the time they arrive I already regret texting them and my father has to get rid off them. It's ironic how I became the fucking whore of this town after my husband died because I was withholding sex from him. We were young and married just for three years when it all happened. I know I had already been suffering depression back then.. I felt uncomfortable had a constant feeling of sadness and anxiety and I had lost my interest in enjoyable activities.. also sex.
That night three years ago Tommy drove to Victoria's secret to buy me some lingerie, to spice it all up a little.. the Victoria's Secret bag was still on the passenger seat when he had that accident, try that feeling.
"I'm Tiffany's friend, I'm here to help her, she needs me!", the man tells my father. Da tries to push the door shut but the man has his foot in it.
"I'm going to call the police!", he yells.
I just stand there, my face completely free of any emotion, thinking of how we came to this point
Tommy died because I didn't want to sleep with him only for me to turn into a sex crazed whore after his death. I'm a slut yes, I have a bipolar disorder yes. But I like that part of me and I'm ok with my bipolar disorder, I control it, make jokes about it. Or at least I try to tell that myself and the others.
However I guess I'm not because some people still mange to push my buttons, like Pat does. Not only he never fails to remind me that my husband is dead in every single conversation we have but when he basically pointed out I was more crazy then him and I wiped everything off the table at that restaurant I guess that meant I was not ok with it. Who does he think he is anyway? He keeps pointing out that he has more of a relationship than I do.. that my husband is dead and gone while his wife threw him out of his house, fucked the history teacher and even claimed a restraining order against him? They might say till death do us part but Tommy still loved me when he died, we never broke up in the common sense, Nikki and Pat did though.
What a big victory, I'm the more tragic case.. I will never have him back no mater what. But that's just my life I guess, I never get what I want, I'm not my sister. Gosh how I hate her. I know I shouldn't but I'm a bitch and I will admit that I can't be happy for others if I'm not.
She got it all. A husband, the perfect marriage, a house and a baby. And all that while I am the black sheep, the lunatic younger daughter with a dead husband and no job because she got fired after sleeping with almost everyone in the office. I'm the little sister in need who lives next to her parents and jumps your bones for a pen.. or even less.
And when she tells her friends about my "dancing thing" in the third person and how great I am at it. Saying she just wants to tell everyone because she is so proud of her little sister when I tell her to stop. Oh how I know she just says that for the others to know: She has not gone completely nuts yet, she is actually doing something. Guess what Veronica I'm not like you. Life and God or whoever had other plans for me. The plan of letting me meet the love of my life, someone who you think is unique and meant to be with you. And then they decided to take him away with no way of him coming back. And all that because life burdened me with a depression that makes me it a hell already on it's own, thanks to that I also lost my job, and now there are these guys constantly coming to my house wanting to fuck the slutty widow while other people stay away from me because I cause trouble. But I can't help it, I can't help that dark veil over my mind, I can't but to throw a tantrum when challenged. And why should I? I don't care what people think they haven't been through what I have, my whole life ended at a young age the night Tommy died. How am I ever gonna feel secure again when life is so random? He bought lingerie..he died because of lingerie.. in the morning he was alright, healthy and vital and the night after he died because he decided to buy fucking lingerie! I just can't believe it! If he came home directly nothing would have happened if went to buy something else nothing would have happened either, he would have lived for years. How can life not have a rewind button if such a banal decision can wipe out a whole life? Oh if I had that possibility to go back. And as time passed I made everything worse with my actions. Butt that's it, human-kind and life suck and there is no such silver lining on the horizon