Pearl's Rejuvenation
"Pearl!" A woman's voice rang throughout a medium sized house. This woman stood in her bedroom, practically looming over the queen sized bed her and her husband shared, hands on her hips. The reason this woman seemed to be seething is that her worthless excuse for a daughter neglected to make up the bed.
Hurried footsteps could be heard from down the hall. The woman turned to watch her fourteen year old daughter appear in the doorway, breathing heavily, her peach colored hair disheveled.
Pearl's attire consisted of a loose, white tank top, strewn with stains of various colors, and bright blue shorts also covered in stains. Her eyes were blue, and not only did she have deep shadows under them from restless nights, they were also riddled with fear. One look between her mother and the cluttered blankets on the bed was all she needed to realize she was in trouble.
"Yes mother?" Pearl asked timidly, knowing from past experiences not to apologize outright.
"Why is my bed not made up?" Pearl's mother asked, her nose turned up in disgust at the sight of the girl. If Pearl wasn't useful to her, she doubt she'd miss the dirty thing.
"I.." Pearl started, but paused. She was about to make an excuse for herself, but stopped. If she even tried to defend herself, her mother would attack. So she said what she's been taught to.
"I neglected my chores to study for the upcoming finals." Pearl said, straightening her posture. "I have no excuse to replace a ten minute job with an hour of studying. Please punish me."
The woman studied her daughter for a few moments. For a split second, she was almost proud of the girl for her dignified look, ready to receive the pain sure to come. But it only lasted for a second. Pride was quickly replaced with anger, and the woman stepped forward, swinging the back of her right hand against Pearl's cheek.
The knuckles stung, and Pearl wanted to cry out in pain as her head was turned to the side, but she bit her tongue. Any noise, and her mother would continue. Instead, she allowed tears to form in her eyes, and looked at her mother once more.
"You're damn right." The woman spat. "Your father works his ass off to keep us fed. My job is to make sure an ungrateful cunt like you doesn't take his work for granted."
"Yes ma'am." Pearl agreed, nodding.
"Repeat what I just said."
Pearl paused. Her parents had taught her not to swear, or else her mouth would be washed out with soap. One time she had accidentally uttered the word "crap" when she stumped her toe against the couch. She had her mouth thoroughly washed and went without dinner for three days. But that punishment was nothing compared to the fear of disobeying her parents.
"I.. I'm an ungrateful c-cunt.." She started, feeling the bile rise in her throat as she uttered that oh so horrible word, yet more tears stinging her eyes. "..and I shouldn't take my father's work for granted."
"Good." Pearl's mother said, and for a second, just a second, Pearl relaxed. But her mother didn't let her relax for long. "After you make up the bed, wash out your mouth. And no dinner tonight."
Pearl could hardly believe this. She was being further punished for obeying her mother with no complaint. Was this woman really going to be that cold hearted.
"B-but I said what you told me t-"
Pearl was interrupted by another backhanded from her mother. Her cheek was already stinging, but now she felt it in her teeth. The girl let out a whimper, backing away from her mother as she brought both hands to her cheek, closing her eyes.
"Don't you talk back to me you worthless shit!" The woman yelled, engulfed in rage. "Do what I say!"
"I'm sorry!" Pearl whimpered out, tears streaming from her eyes, running down her hands covering her cheek. She didn't dare open her eyes to look at her mother now, hoping being sightless would deter the woman's hand. "I'll do everything you say."
"Good. Now get fucking started."
Pearl heard the footsteps of her mother leaving the room. She didn't move from her spot until she was positive that the woman wouldn't be coming back. After several seconds, standing in the same spot, Pearl finally opened her eyes. She looked at the bed in front of her and, with a small sigh, began her work.
This has been Pearl's life, ever since she was born.
Neglected as a baby, left with relatives from time to time to be taken care of, punished unconditionally at the slightest of errors.
Most children raised in this environment would rebel when shown others lives. When sent to school, most children would see the world before them and begin misbehaving on purpose. Those children would be kicked out, sent to a foster home and resent most other adults. But not Pearl.
Pearl believed that this was just the hand fate dealt to her. She was meant to be treated like trash, only conceived by her parents to wait on their every command. A Straight A student, always minds herself in school, a favorite of the teachers. Pearl was a saint to everyone outside of her home. But to her parents, she was just as important as a rat whose body has decayed under a mouse trap. The only worth she was to her parents was that she hardly ever ate. That made Pearl much cheaper to take care of, and the only nice clothes she had were for school.
Of course they gave Pearl a little money for herself, but saying "a little" is being generous. Throughout her life, with a meager allowance of fifty cents a months, six dollars a year, Pearl has acquired eighty-eight dollars and fifty cents. The only reason Pearl has saved it for this long was because it was the only thing her parents had ever given to her.
But now, as she washing her mouth out with hand soap, gagging on the taste, she wanted to buy herself something. She wanted to be selfish, wanted to be free for at least a little amount of time.
After rinsing her mouth of the soapy taste with water, Pearl made her way to her room to continue studying for her finals which would start the day after tomorrow. Her ninth grade year was coming to an end.
Really, if it wasn't for her mother's disability payments, Pearl would never be going to school in the first place. Her father's income was put to the bills and groceries, keeping his family alive. He didn't have enough money to waste on Pearl's education, or so he told her.
She knew that he was full of it. He always came home with gifts for his wife. A new watch, a fancy coat, a prada handbag. Pearl knew that he had plenty to pay for her education, he just didn't care.
But Pearl didn't care either. She poured over her textbooks on her twin bed, legs crossed under her as she studied for the rest of the day. When her father came home from work, he didn't visit Pearl's room to greet her. When the sun dived below the horizon, Pearl wasn't called for dinner. She was used to being ignored, as well as pushed around. But as she closed her books and stored them under her, turning off her light to get ready for bed, she smiled at the plastic jar of quarters that rested on her nightstand.
Tomorrow, Pearl would treat herself. Maybe she would go down the street, buy something at the corner convenience store. Eighty dollars would get her a lot of sweets.
Pearl shivered in excitement, kicking her feet on her bed as she lay down. She wanted sleep to come to her for once. She wanted to hurry and give herself happiness.
Pearl is walking down the street, struggling to carry her money, again just dressed in her dirty stained tank top and shorts, flip flops on her feet. Even before she left the house, she was forced to pour out over half of her change so that she could carry the jar at all. But thirty dollars worth of coins was more than enough to get few candy bars.
Though, she did worry about being jumped by some punk. Logan Square, Chicago wasn't necessarily the safest place in the world. Last time Pearl checked, the homicide rate in this part of the city was between ten and fifteen people a year. Carrying a jar of coins was like having a big target on her back.
Speaking of which.. "Hey kid."
Pearl turned to see the source of the voice, terrified that the person calling out to her would be wielding a firearm. Instead, it was a small, blonde, slightly chubby woman wearing a red, zip up jacket and blue jeans, standing with her back on the wall that Pearl had just passed. Why the woman was dressed so heavily when Summer was just around the corner, Pearl had no idea.
"Watcha doing with all those coins?"
"Oh, well, umm.." Pearl just wasn't used to being talked to by anyone outside of her home and school. Usually, people ignored her. She guessed carrying a large jar of quarters would change someone's opinion.
"Cuz I sell the good stuff, you know." The woman continued, not letting Pearl answer her question.
"You mean drugs?" Pearl asked automatically. Her school was warned of the dangers of drugs, such as meth, cocaine, and marijuana. Most of the students didn't care, though. They got their hands one whatever they could, and even a girl called Malachite offered Pearl a puff of weed while in a high. Pearl refused of course.
"Nah, just some plants." The woman said with a shrug. "The type that make you feel really good. How much do you have in that jar, anyway?"
"Thirty dollars." Pearl answered, again automatically. She almost cursed herself as soon as the words came out of her mouth.
The woman let out a low whistle, her smile wide. "That'll get you an eighth of an ounce. That's more than most kids your age can get."
"An eighth of what?" Pearl asked. Again, the words just slipped from her mouth. Her parent's punishments left a Pavlov-like impression on Pearl, like she has to answer any question asked of her without hesitation. That might end up being the death of her today.
"You never smoked in your life, have you?" The woman asked, again not waiting for an answer as she continued. "I mean weed, kid. Marijuana. Grass. Pot. You know, the stuff school tells you about."
"So you are selling drugs." Pearl stated, clutching her jar of quarters to her body protectively.
"Weed isn't a drug." The woman retorted. She sighed and reached into the pockets of her jacket and pulled out something that looked like a cigarette. Except, Pearl had a pretty good idea that's not what the thing was. "It's a plant. All natural. People just make it seem dangerous, but all it does is make you feel good."
"..I dunno." Pearl couldn't believe she was actually considering this woman's offer.
"Tell you what." The woman started. She pulled a lighter from her other pocket, igniting it. Pearl watched in mixed emotions of curiosity and fear as the end of the roll of hemp was lit. The woman put the lighter back in her pocket and, surprisingly, held the roll out for Pearl to take. "First puff is free. Try it out, and if you don't like it, you can be on your way."
Pearl couldn't believe herself. Before she could think, she had placed her jar on the ground and reached for the joint held out for her to take. It was as if her mind were a blur, holding the unlit side of the roll to her lips. She inhaled, and instantly began to cough, doubling over.
Holding the joint between her fingers, careful not to drop it, she clutched at her chest with her other hand, wheezing as she tried to steady her breath. The blonde woman just laughed.
"Yeah, first time is always the hardest." She watched as Pearl slowly got herself under control. When Pearl finally could control her breath, she stood up straight. One would think that some who just had a coughing fit wouldn't be smiling. But Pearl was.
The teenager looked back at her jar of quarters on the ground, then back at the woman who was attempting to sell illegal substances to her. Words weren't needed. The woman understood Pearl's expression completely.
"The name's Sadie." The woman introduced herself, holding out her hand for Pearl to take. "Sadie Miller."
Pearl looked down at the hand held out for her. She found herself taking it. "Pearl." She whispered before bringing the roll of marijuana to her lips again.
"Well Pearl.." Sadie started, shaking the teenager's hand. "I think we're gonna get along just fine."
Author's Note:
So to recap, this is supposed to be the story of how Pearl falls into an abyss of drug use and climbs back up again. If you haven't read my Lapidot story "Destruction of Property", I suggest you look into it to get a little insight as to why I'm making this story.
I hope you enjoy this, and I hope I don't mess it up for myself.
Be on the lookout for the next chapter of "Love is Weird." As always, so long for now.