Living up to your Potential
Disclaimer: Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV. This is fan fiction written for entertainment only. No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.
It had been a week since Mack had finally broke with Jodie; the reason of his anger was the lack of commitment to their relationship, after she canceled their anniversary due to an unexpected dinner in the Winged Tree Country Club as a trophy daughter for her father. Her family had been anything but happy for the event, quoting her recently acquired free time to increase her weekly duties on the many, many clubs she was a member of, plus a Crestmore sponsored course that would eat the remainder of her weekends.
The previous week she had been writing an essay for Saturday's Pep Rally in honor of the latest victory of the Lawndale Lions, it was an emotive piece she was sincerely proud of, something that made her wonder if this was the kind of release Daria experienced with her own poetry and short stories. Daria herself would have been impressed with the words contained and the emotion they expressed, but she would be forced to deduct points for the repetition of the phrase "Always do your very best, never mind the terrible, terrible toll it may take on your spirit." It was after all a poor way to fill two whole pages.
Her parents were going to be out all night, on one of the few parties from a friend of theirs that was actually fun, to end on a local hotel to continue the celebrations long after the party was over, of course since in this particular reunion they weren't any politicians or powerful people to impress with her accomplishments she wasn't invited, leaved behind to take care of her sister Rachel and her little brother Evan.
This night she had allowed Rachel free reign over the TV, and she even let her choose her pizza, instead of the usual compromise of peperoni. She has even let her taste her first beer, which after the initial shock at the taste she had in a show of determination drank the full can. Meanwhile Jodie had been playing with Evan whenever she wasn't eating with Rachel, singing a lullaby with the kind of emotion she believed she lost after the first time she had done the role of nanny with her sister many years ago, all while preparing him for bed.
After the children have fallen asleep she had gone to the basement, more specifically the fireproof security box where all the Landon's important stuff was safely stored. It would take almost one hour of guesses, including her parent's wedding, the birthdays of all the members of the family up to both her grandparents and even random numbers to discover the right combination. She should have known that the patent number of the Folding Coffee Cup was the one number her father would chose to protect her valuables. At least she was able to get the shotgun her father used for clay shooting on the club as well as the WWI vintage revolver her maternal grandfather had been issued as part of the Tuskegee airmen.
After both children were tucked in their respective beds Jodie had gone cleaning all the mess her sister had left around the house during the day, toys were stored, dishes were cleaned until she could see her own reflexion, trash was put on the trash bags and left on the container outside, she even took the time to sweep the floor and mop the kitchen.
After cleaning she went to her room and got the small unmarked bottle from a loose board under her bed. The little pills inside were a gift from Burnout for covering her during one of Principal Li's illegal searches, they have been allowing her to keep the rhythm her parents were asking of her, and even if she had been taking higher and higher doses these last few weeks, they were still a godsend, one that she would not need any longer after tomorrow. Uncharacteristically, this time she didn't bother to hide them again, it didn't matter.
With new energies she went to her closet and took a few clothes she had chosen for tomorrow, for her sister she chose her favorite yellow sundress, for her brother those cute little rockets pajamas, not her father's favorite Lawndale Lions uniform -NEVER THE LIONS-. After that she finally went to her bed and took hold of her pillow…
The first room she entered was the one of her sister; she was already deeply asleep, holding an old Snoopy dog that she inherited from Jodie. For a few moments Jodie stood there, just watching, but then with a final push she walked towards the bed and firmly pressed the pillow on Rachel's face, holding it with both hands while her sister, her dear sister tried to push it back and breathe again. All the while Jodie had been telling her than she would be all right, of the way she would she would be pressured by their parents in the future, and asking for forgiveness for setting the bar so high. It took a few minutes and an eternity for Rachel Landon to finally stop moving, and a few additional minutes for her sister to check that there was no pulse.
It was the turn of her little brother, who was sleeping soundly on his crib, among football paraphernalia her father had buy to start guiding him towards the path he had chosen for him, a linebacker of the Lions, before his inheritance of the family's business, an entire life already traced for him, no matter his future dreams he was still unable to express. Taking those facts in mind Jodie was able to extinguish Evan Landon's life with far more decision that the one of her younger sister, all while singing a few of his favorites lullabies.
The hardest part was done, now it was time to make sure that the dignity of her siblings was maintained. It was hard to undress the children, but it was necessary to clean them, since death is seldom as glamorous as in the movies, and the dead are unable to control their bowels. It took a while to clean their bodies and longer to change their clothes, she should have realized before just how hard is to dress someone who cannot cooperate at all, yet she did manage to lay them on her parent's bed just before dawn.
Now she just needed to do a few last chores, pick up the dirty clothes and put them inside the washing machine, make the children beds and mop their rooms to cover the smell, and finally take a long, hot shower and dress herself for the best, last day of her life, confident in the fact that her siblings were free, and now was her turn.
Now she was walking towards the bus, on her backpack the guns taken from the safe and on her room, visible on her desk her final Essay: "Living up to your Potential"
This is my first story; I appreciate any help or criticism.