Disclaimer: I own nothing, otherwise I'd be stinking rich right now…
A/N: Okay, yeah I'm back. Seriously, I'm taking tests and crap at school and it is DIFFICULT! I spend all my formerly free-time studying my butt off… Anyways, here's another chapter, after this I have to finish my other fics as well… Before I EMO, please review, they make my day less depressing…
NOTE: OMG, I edited, again… Stupid OCD for perfect writing… Please read, and review…
NOTE: AGGGG! I just found a streaming for the movie and my OCD WON'T LEAVE ME ALONE! So now I'm fixing the chapter… AGAIN! AGGGG! CURSE YOU OCD!
UPDATE(again): Yeah, before I continue with chapter 12, I am going through my old chapters and looking for errors, I know, people want updates, but I'm trying to update Harry Potter fanfics too, as well as my 9 fanfic, on top of school work. Fixed the sentence that I stopped halfway through, yeah, it REALLLYYY annoyed me…
Chapter 1: Three Years and A Day
A disgruntled Ripley shook her head lightly, fingering the handle of her beloved switchblade in her pocket with her right hand. Another day of going from house to house selling those God-forsaken cookies that Miss Hattie made them sell…
"I say this violates Child Labor laws…" A thirteen-year old Ripley grumbled as she trailed behind two girls shorter than she was, a blonde and a bespectacled brunette.
"Child what?" A blonde haired Edith questioned.
"Laws that say kids can work at age fourteen." Margo said methodically.
Edith nodded quickly and lost interest as she swung from another light pole.
Standing at exactly five feet tall was one Ripley, a thirteen-year old with black hair, one blue eye and a bad temper. Her hair was cut short, just above her shoulders. Today, she sported a pair of faded blue jeans, a plain black t-shirt, and an old pair of blue, high-top sneakers with ripped laces. The teen covered her head with a large but snug, black beanie, and covered the right side of her face(the scarred side) with a red bandana tied in a slantwise position across her face.
Ripley sighed as she carried Agnes, or Aggie as Ripley preferred to call the five-year old. This behavior was pretty typical of the two older Kavanagh siblings, Ripley resisted the urge to shake her head.
Three years ago, the older girl had predicted that the three girls' stay at Miss Hattie's Home for Girls would've been a short one, how wrong she'd been.
Due to the girls' insistence at being adopted all together, no prospective parent wanted that much responsibility… Especially all three of them…
So, for once, Ripley actually had roommates that she liked. As far as she was concerned, they were alright, Margo with her calm maturity, Edith with her offbeat macabre humor, and Agnes with her innocent understanding.
As far as Ripley had been concerned their bastard of a step-father deserved to be castrated with a rusty spoon for leaving such awesome kids in a department store…
Ripley never said anything about it, but she admired them a bit. Not because they could fight the best or talk their way out of a situation, but how they stuck together. And despite how much Margo and Edith seemed to clash or argue, they always were ready to back each other up.
Ripley would've given her left lung for sisters like that.
Three years ago, Ripley had joined her cookie sale route with Margo, Edith and Agnes's. The older girl never said it to them out loud but, there were a lot of freaks scattered about the place. And it just wasn't right that Miss Hattie just sent girls to their doors…
'It's like saying, hey, free pussy, come on down pedophiles RAPE ME!' Thought Ripley bitterly as she caressed the switchblade's handle again.
How Ripley despised that woman who practically ran their lives now…
She remembered her first days at that Orphanage, it really did live up to its mental title in Ripley's mind, it really was a living hell…
Ripley remembered her first year at the orphanage well, she never had much self-esteem to begin with, and it only proceeded to dwindle with each of Miss Hattie's cutting remarks, glares and little cruelties.
The one-eyed girl sighed as she re-adjusted a smiling Agnes in her arm carefully. Observing Margo take charge of yet another cookie sale, talking to yet another airheaded adult living in a rose-tinted world behind a white-picket fence…
'Pathetic.' The teen resisted the urge to sneer disdainfully at the woman Margo was selling cookies to. 'Oh well, at least it's a sale.'
"Ripley?" Agnes's small voice seemed to snap the teen out of her thought.
"Yeah Aggie?" It was practically an instinct, Ripley always called Agnes, Aggie.
"You okay?" The little girl asked, her big brown eyes sparkling with innocent concern..
"Yeah Aggie," Ripley answered, removing her right hand from her pocket and smoothing out the five-year olds' hair. "Just fine."
Margo had a knowing look on her face as they walked to their next house, but the brunette remained quiet.
Oddly enough, Margo had become quite perceptive of the older girl's moods and habits, as well as her personality quirks. She often seemed to know what Ripley was thinking of, or at least her mood in general, by just watching Ripley's few expressions.
Often times, Ripley found the bespectacled brunette to be more mature than she was. As far as she knew, Margo was far less prone to violence and far more responsible than the older girl had ever been when she was ten.
Hell, Ripley remembered her first year at the orphanage, every casual cruelty and cutting remark, every failed adoption. Ripley soon gained a reputation that preceded her, in the four years that she'd stayed at 'Miss Hattie's Home for Girls', she had been adopted… And returned, twenty-two times…
Hell, and not even all of those so-called family experiences were relatively decent ones…
Ripley resisted the urge to caress her switchblade for comfort… She wasn't completely positive, but Ripley was sure that Margo knew about that habit as well….
Speaking of Margo, Ripley found even more reason to despise Miss Hattie. When she had come to the orphanage with her sisters, she had been scared but brave all the same for a seven-year old. Margo had maturity, brains and more strength of character and confidence than Ripley had ever seen in another kid. But Miss Hattie had slowly, surely eroded that confidence with cutting remarks, casual cruelties, and demeaning punishments that never fit the 'crime'.
Hell, it wasn't even just Margo that Miss Hattie had worn down, Ripley had watched Edith sink lower into her macabre worldview as Miss Hattie practically bullied them every day. Even poor Agnes, who didn't understand what was even going on, or hell, even why Miss Hattie was so horrible and cold to them.
Ripley couldn't fight the scowl that had found its way onto her face and she felt her lip curl distastefully. Already Miss Hattie was destroying them, marring their childhoods with emotional scars that would only fade with amnesia.
How it made Ripley's blood boil with barely confined rage, how Ripley wished that she could simply kill the monster who ran the orphanage that the four of them lived in. How Ripley wished that she was half the insane serial killer-to-be as her Big Brother had been. Everything in Ripley longed to lash out at the shackles that held the four of them to that hellhole they slept in every night, but was tightly held back by the fact that it would cause the three younger girls more harm than good.
Hell, Miss Hattie's background checks were terrible completely legal, but horrible all the same… Ripley winced as Agnes's foot shifted abruptly against a rather nasty bruise on the thirteen-year old's ribcage. Her ribs were still bruised from her last almost-adoption escapade, what woman adopts another child just so that their biological kid won't be the beating post for her drunk ass of a husband?
You'd think that cracked ribs would heal after a month, hell they hurt at all the most inopportune times. Ripley actually had troubles keeping it from an observant Margo and a more perceptive-than-one-would-think Edith. Agnes took things at face value, as most small children did, easily convinced that whatever the older girls told her.
Thankfully, the two younger girls hadn't seen the wince, the older girl rejoiced inwardly, they had enough burdening their minds already. Ripley, as a general rule, didn't care for people, or anybody but herself. Yet, despite her apparent selfishness, Ripley retained this soft spot for them, her only soft spot... EVER.
Already, in a mere year, it felt as if Ripley had known the three forever. Via time, trial and error, not only had the younger girls learned to read the older girl, but vice versa as well. Ripley had learned that Margo, was incredibly smart for her age, well-beyond that of her idiotic peers at school. Edith was intuitive, loyal and had a good, if not slightly macabre sense of humor. Agnes, Agnes was nothing but an adorable girl who just loved and never judged. Ripley knew what scared them, what made them laugh, hell she even tried sneaking them something decent under Miss Hattie's nose as much as she could, that was testament to her… Attachment to them…
Ripley remembered nights, when it seemed that all walls were down, when the big questions that haunted the younger girls seemed to bubble to the surface. What was never said in the day, always made its way into the girls' almost nightly conversations.
Ripley knew that Edith never let anything get to her during the day, she would simply distract herself with causing mischief or finding something or other to do. That girl was a tough little trooper, but when night fell, Edith had to be still. Any lingering insecurity would creep up on the mind when unoccupied and Ripley knew the feeling. Margo just seemed to stew in her doubts, but when asked she was very honest. Eventually, nights like those would result in Edith or Margo waking Ripley up with their talking, or waking her on purpose to talk about it.
Ripley's blood boiled remembering Edith question about the validity of Miss Hattie's cold remarks. The teen felt as if she would burst into flames when Margo had 'a look.'
Ripley knew, Margo had a certain look on her face when she doubted that her or her sisters would ever be adopted, much less together.
Ripley had devoted her nights to reversing the damage done, to save something, anything of what their childhoods could be. To make sure they didn't become gosh damned emo kids or juvenile delinquents who spend more time in Juvie, than in school.
Hell, Ripley was already in deep shit when it came to that, she couldn't even count the number of times she'd almost been caught stealing from other people's lockers and pawning them off at the downtown pawnshop.
Why? Ripley had no fucking clue.
What did it matter anyways? She still hallucinated that her Big Brother's ghost follows her around on a daily basis, though that may have been due to her refusal to eat the crap Miss Hattie called 'food', but Ripley felt that her life had a bit of purpose this way.
Ripley stole a peek at Margo's clipboard, their sales' tally, it was, as expected, very low. At least, the sales were low by Miss Hattie's standards. Ripley sighed quietly, if the sales were too low, Margo, Edith and Agnes would spend time in the 'Box of Shame' and Ripley would spend the day stuffed in a crowded broom closet.
Ripley knew that Margo's time was running out, in a year, Margo would probably be too big for a 'Box of Shame' and just get stuffed in the closet with Ripley. When that happened, you were old enough for Miss Hattie to come up with more varied punishments. Nothing, totally illegal, at least.
Ripley knew that her reputation already preceded her, she knew that she had no aesthetic advantage over other orphans, she had no chances of being adopted anymore. But…
'They do.' Ripley thought doggedly, 'and I'll be fucking damned if they spend the rest of their young lives in that hell hole with me…'
"Rwipley?" Little Agnes tugged at a lock of the older girl's black hair. Ripley's attention was once again on the five-year old.
"Yeah Aggie?" Ripley always answered Agnes's questions, it was a habit.
"Why are you so quiet?" Agnes looked up at the one-eyed girl, Ripley knew the other two girls were listening too, though they didn't look at her.
'So,' Ripley thought to herself cynically, 'they know me, and are the only unselfish thing I'll do for anybody, great Ripley, just great.'
She never planned to get attached to them, so sure that they'd be adopted in no time. But as they stayed longer, as another month would pass, as Ripley would come back from yet another failed adoption, they would still be there.
Ripley still remembered the first time she came back, only two months after Margo, Edith and Agnes had come to the orphanage…
OOOOOOO
Flashback…
As if her day could get any worse, Ripley had gotten in trouble at school for fighting, again.
Weren't families supposed to care about you no matter what? That's what Mrs. Neille said when she decided to adopt Ripley.
Mrs. Neille had been really nice, and her husband was gruff, but ignored Ripley, which was fine by her. So Ripley shouldn't have had anything to worry about, besides, those bullies had attacked her! It was self-defense! But did school teachers or principal believe her? No, they believed those spoiled brats with parents on the damnable school board…
On the bus ride home, Ripley's thoughts wandered, would the Mrs. Neille be angry with her? Would they ground her? Spank her or something like that?
'Dear God,' Ripley heard other kids doing it at the orphanage, she decided to pray too, and Mrs. Neille came and adopted her… Maybe… 'I know you must be busy, very busy saving souls and running Heaven, but maybe I could ask something again? I pray that Mr. and Mrs. Neille won't be too angry with me. I pray that they'll still…'
The bus stopped, and Ripley had to step off, so she gathered her backpack and stepped onto the sidewalk.
'Amen.' She cut off the prayer quickly as she approached the house…
Ripley had come to the Neille's house, ready, maybe it wouldn't be the same, maybe Mrs. Neille would listen. Give her some ice for her bruises too…
But Ripley, despite all disappointments that her past six adoptions had left her with, did not expect to see her packed bag at the door, and both of the Neilles' sitting at the kitchen table. Mrs. Neille's face was apologetic, but serious.
"H-" Ripley started, but was interrupted by Mrs. Neille.
"Ripley, dear, please take a seat." Mrs. Neille said politely, gesturing to the empty chair.
"Oookay…" Ripley said, an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach. She was in trouble, but some part of her was sure that the worst she'd get was a grounding.
"Now, I know you've had a hard time adjusting," Mrs. Neille said apologetically, "but this behavior is just unacceptable!"
"But-" A ten-year old Ripley protested, about to explain the side of the story the principal had refused to hear, only to be interrupted by the gruff voice of Mr. Neille.
"Do not interrupt young lady." The tall man said from his seat as he glared sternly at her.
"Now I've tried to be understanding," Mrs. Neille continued, "but you are fighting, and getting in trouble more and more often, we're getting calls from your school almost every day. And we have already addressed this issue several times, but you just won't listen will you?" Mrs. Neille's voice had taken on a condescendingly apologetic tone.
"But-" Ripley started again, only to be shushed by Mr. Neille's hard gaze.
"I'm sorry Ripley, but we just can't keep you, you're just too unruly to handle ourselves." Mrs. Neille said seriously, that annoyingly apologetic expression still adorning her face.
Ripley wasn't sure but, somewhere, deep inside, she could hear her heart cracking.
"That's why we're sending you back," Mrs. Neille stood up and gestured to Ripley's duffel bag and backpack. "You can check your room to see if I missed anything."
An hour later, Miss Hattie's had pulled up in a small car, and had Mr. and Mrs. Neille sign some papers. Mrs. Neille took one last look at Ripley's blank expression and bent herself to meet her green eyes with Ripley's singular blue one.
"You know that this is for the best, right honey?" Mrs. Neille's soft tone just seemed to make Ripley's heart harden, "you know that Mr. Neille and I love you very much and only want what's best for you, right?"
'Liar.' Ripley thought bitterly.
Ripley remembered, she remembered the woman teaching her how to cook, and her promises. Mrs. Neille had promised, they'd be a family, Ripley would be happy. She promised Ripley so much, she promised that she'd they'd be family forever. That Ripley could tell her anything she was ready to tell, that she'd be her Mother. That Ripley would get hugs everyday even when the ten-year old protested, warm smiles and a friendly ear to tell her troubles to.
Where were those promises? Where were those promises of love and affection for the rest of her childhood?
Then Ripley recognized it, finally, on Mrs. Neille's face… It was never love, it was pity…
For the whole month and three days Ripley had been there.
Ripley could almost have sworn that she heard a sound, the sound of a heart breaking.
"Sliby, sliby, tak mnoho slibu. Jste nic, ale lhani, slib jistic. K certu s tebou, sakra do pekla." Ripley replied emptily in Czech.
The one-eyed ten-year old then turned and took her seat in the car, closing the door behind her. And refused to make eye contact with the woman, Ripley even ignored Miss Hattie.
ooooo
About half an hour later, Ripley found herself stuffed in a crowded broom closet. All she had to look forward to was talking to Aggie, Edith and Margo…
Then Ripley remembered, of course there were a bunch of parents coming to the orphanage this month, they were probably adopted by now…
The ten-year old sighed as Miss Hattie unlocked the closet door, and judging by the robust woman's expression, Ripley would not be eating tonight either. Quietly, the ten-year old made her way to her room, fully expecting it to be either empty or to have new, bratty roommates.
Ripley was surprised, when ten minutes of staring at the cracks in the ceiling later, the three girls walked in. From what looked like a cookie sale route, Miss Hattie had almost everyone doing that, regardless of age really…
"Hallo Rwipley!" Agnes's childish lisp rang in the air, ripping Ripley out of her solitary thoughts.
"Eh?" Ripley answered, not really feeling up to answering with actual words at the moment.
"Weren't you adopted last month?" Margo questioned curiously.
Ripley felt herself smirk, "what? Thought you could get rid of me that easy?"
"But we saw you get 'dopted…" Edith muttered as she plopped down onto her bed, well, more like a cot.
"They couldn't handle me," Ripley stated while forcing a well-practiced look of confident pride onto her face, "they couldn't handle the coolness that is Ripley!"
"Rweally?" Agnes looked up at the girl with big eyes.
"Yeah," Ripley steered her expression to a serious one, "Miss Hattie has you guys selling cookies already?"
"Yeah." Margo said quietly.
"You guys okay?" Ripley then did something she'd never done before, she left her corner of the room and sat next to Margo.
"Yeah." The seven-year old brunette said tiredly, "just tired."
"Me too." Edith chimed in before yawning.
Soon the girls had changed into their pajamas, and got ready for bed. Ripley had spoken little, letting Edith and Agnes talk, while Margo observed the older girl quietly.
Agnes had trouble climbing into her bed, so Ripley lifted the two-year old up onto the bed and tucked the covers over her. But the little girl had stood up on the bed and, short as Agnes was, and hugged the Ripley's neck.
Prying the tiny girl's arms from around her neck, Ripley cocked an eyebrow at the tiny girl, "what was that for."
"You wook sad." The little girl said quietly, "Mommy gwave hugs when we were sad."
"Yeah well, I don't need hugs," Ripley said, suddenly stoic, but staring at the adorableness that was Agnes and resisting was only possible by heartlessness or blindness. "But the sentiment's appreciated." Ripley muttered under her breath as she plopped herself onto her own bed in the corner.
Ripley hadn't noticed Margo staring at her, or the three girls sit up and kneel on their beds and clasp their hands together in praying motion.
"Dear God," Margo said aloud, "thank you for this day."
Ripley resisted the urge to scowl, what was there to be thankful for today?
"We pray that we'll get adopted soon, to a nice family-" Margo continued, before Edith threw in her two cents.
"With a big house and yard!" The blonde sounded slightly energetic.
"And a pet unicworn!" Agnes added ecstatically, and there was the unicorn obsession again…
"With a Mom and a Dad who'll love us a lot." Margo paused, waiting if her sisters wanted to add anything, "Amen."
"Amen." Edith and Agnes finished their prayers.
Ripley lay on her bed in silence, not even under the covers, and soon enough her ears were met with the slowed breathing of Edith and Agnes…
"Ripley?" It was Margo.
"Hm?" Ripley answered.
"Why are you really here?" Margo's question wasn't new, not to Ripley anyways. But, Ripley had a feeling that Margo would be able to tell if Ripley was lying…
"Fact of life," Ripley attempted and failed, to keep the bitterness from leaking into her tone, "there are so many people who want children, but aren't ready for them."
"Yeah." Margo sounded like she understood what the older girl was talking about, and Ripley wouldn't have put it past the seven-year old's intelligence.
"So what are you three still doing here? I heard that there was a bunch of parents here, I was sure you three would've gone fast." Ripley questioned blankly.
"Someone wanted Agnes…" Margo started.
"But?" Ripley could just feel the tension in the air.
"We won't be adopted unless we're together." Margo said with determination.
Ripley felt her mind just, stop. Adopted together? Ripley had watched identical twins separated in this place, brothers leave their younger siblings, how could Margo, as intelligent as she was, hope to be adopted with both Edith and Agnes?
"What did ya do?" Ripley couldn't help but ask.
"Edith set her on fire…" Margo mumbled.
Ripley, giggled. She just giggled, which turned into a soft chuckling guffaw, it was a foreign sound in the one-eyed girl's throat, she never laughed. She hadn't laughed in years.
Margo was silent, she'd never heard the one-eyed ten-year old laugh before. She sat up and stared at the giggling Ripley from the other side of the room.
"A kid after my own heart." Ripley said between chuckles, "tell me, how'd she do it?"
"A mudpie, a can of the lady's hairspray, and a cigarette lighter." Margo explained, still staring at the laughing anomaly.
"Oh geez," Ripley said while wiping the tear that had resulted from her laughter, "at first I thought I'd have to deal with screaming brats when you guys came, but," Ripley tried to stifle a giggle to no avail, "you guys areawesome."
"Really?" Margo sounded incredulous, Ripley was sure that the seven-year old was still wary of her.
"Yeah, I don't think I've met anybody who could make me laugh since my brother. You guys are alright in my book." Ripley said as her giggles began to die down.
"Thanks." Margo replied quietly, Ripley saw the brunette draw up her knees to her chest beneath her large t-shirt pajamas.
"You okay?" Ripley found herself asking.
"Not really." Margo answered truthfully, "you?"
"Same. Life's a bitch ain't it?" Ripley comment was met with a disapproving stare from Margo, "don't worry, I censor myself when Agnes and Edith can hear 'kay?"
"Bad habit though." Margo commented.
"Along with the list," Ripley said jokingly, "I have a lot of bad habits Margo."
There was a silence that followed, Ripley would've thought that Margo had gone to sleep, if Margo hadn't have been sitting up.
"Do you think we, any of us, will get adopted?" The seven-year old asked quietly.
"Apart, yeah. Together?" Ripley paused to think, "one in a million."
"So you're saying-" Margo started.
"Ah, ah, ah, let me finish." Ripley interrupted Margo quickly, "but that one in a million will most likely be better than any of those other chances you guys have apart."
"How so?" Margo asked.
"Well," Ripley paused to think for a few moments, "take me for instance. I've been adopted several times, mostly by people who either think that they're ready for a kid, or out of pity. I've always sent back, and I'm sure that this last failure of an adoption won't be my last." Ripley kept her face blank, or at least as blank as possible before continuing, "think about it, the reason people adopt little kids is because they want to skip the baby period, or a multitude of reasons that don't benefit you. But you know what? You guys haven't even hit the double digits yet!" Ripley didn't know why, but her voice cracked a little, "if someone is too stupid or heartless enough to separate you or not love you guys, guys what? Those worthless people aren't worth it, they don't deserve you, they don't deserve kids period. It's better to wait for the chance of a lifetime, that one in a million, than to have a million half-assed chances that give you nothing but heartache in the end."
Margo was quiet, the brunette had never heard the older girl say so more than two sentences at a time, much less the veritable paragraph that Ripley had just uttered.
"So Margo," Ripley finally sat up, and turned to look at Margo across the small room, not even noticing that her beanie and bandana had come off, "tell me something, what do you want more?"
"More than what?" Margo said nervously, looking a little frightened, Ripley realized that in the shadows of the room, the older girl's face must've looked frightening.
"What would you rather have, if you had to choose?" Ripley repeated her question, "your sisters or a home?"
"My sisters." Margo answered without pausing, "it wouldn't be a home without them."
Ripley felt a grin tug at her mouth, "good."
"Good? Good, what?" Margo sounded a little confused.
"You aren't prepared to abandon them the first chance you get, and from the tone of your voice, you'll raise hell to keep together. Good." Ripley answered, looking at Margo with an unreadable expression.
"Thanks." Margo sounded as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
"No prob." Ripley said, "but don't think I'll be nice to everyone now, alright? I'm still a bad-ass, soon-to-be-teenager with more tricks than brain cells, got it? "
"Got it." Margo said, Ripley could have sworn that the girl was grinning.
After about two minutes of silence, Margo spoke again.
"Ripley?"
"Yeah Margo?" The one-eyed girl answered.
"How'd you… Um…" Margo seemed to, for once in the month that Ripley had known her, flounder for words.
"Lose my eye?" Ripley said nonchalantly, "shrapnel, and a really big piece of wood."
"Ouch." Margo commented while rubbing her right eye.
"Pretty talkative tonight, aren't we?" Ripley commented offhandedly.
"Sorry." Margo apologized politely.
"Don't apologize, I like talking, I just haven't met anyone intelligent enough to hold a conversation with 'til you guys came." Ripley felt herself grin a Cheshire Cat grin.
"What was your brother like?" Margo blurted, wow she was on a roll.
"What?" Ripley wasn't sure she heard the brunette right.
"You said that you had a brother, what was he like?" Margo repeated, a little slower that time.
"Would you believe that I had four?" Ripley said.
"Wow." Margo couldn't imagine having that many brothers.
"Yup, they were all older than me, and three of them hated me." Ripley eye seemed to glaze over in the darkness as she remembered her time before the orphanage, "his name was Kazimir, he was the oldest."
"What language is that?" Margo asked.
"Czech." Ripley answered curtly, "we had different Dads, but Kazimir looked out for me, and kept my other brothers off my back."
"Sounds like a great guy." Margo commented.
"Not really," admitted Ripley.
"Why not?" Margo asked.
"He was insane." Ripley said with an unperturbed expression.
"How much older was he?" the brunette asked.
"If he were alive today, he'd be nineteen." Ripley said, "but none the less he was completely insane."
"Why?" Margo said with slight trepidation.
"Let's just say he had a very weird obsession with turning dead things into art." Ripley said before kicking her covers to the foot of her bed's metal frame. "But he did teach me the 'Seven Golden Rules That Can't Go Wrong.'"
"Seven golden rules?" Margo raised an eyebrow.
"Yup, curious?" Ripley smirked at little, coupled with her scars, her slightly underweight stature, and the indent of her eyelid indicating her missing eye, the ten-year old looked downright scary.
"A little." Margo's curiosity seemed to get the best of her as she added, "tell me."
"Okay, rule number one is…"
The rest of the night the older girls talked, and talked, and talked…
"You guys selling cookies tomorrow I'm guessing?" Ripley said as she tucked her ten-year old self beneath her itchy covers.
"Yeah?" Margo answered, yawning tiredly.
"I'm following you guys tomorrow." Ripley said, leaving no room for argument as she tried to sleep.
"M'kay…" Margo muttered as she stretched out, soon drifting off to sleep.
For a while, Ripley simply stared up at the ceiling, going over all the conversations she'd ever held with the three sleeping girls a few feet away.
When she had grown attached, Ripley didn't know… But, they made it a little bit less lonely…
Odd thing was, Ripley didn't feel that sad anymore…
End Flashback…
OOOOOOOOO
Since then, Ripley had
Ripley resisted the urge to stab the man known as Fred McDade. Seriously, this guy was just so freaking annoying! It's like the man's very countenance seemed to grate upon Ripley's nerves of steel like nails on a chalkboard.
'Just buy the fucking cookies already!' The teen thought venomously, while trying not to squish Agnes in her annoyance.
"Well thank ya kids!" The oblivious man twitched his mustache as he signed his name on the order.
As the girls walked to the next house, Margo and Ripley couldn't help but notice the dead lawn, the dark countenance and shadow the house seemed to exert.
Margo rang the doorbell…
Unheard by the younger girls, Ripley could hear quiet footsteps approaching the door. The first nine years of her life she remembered her Mother drilling the harshest, more demanding expectations into her little head. Unfortunately, Ripley had never been a success in her Mother's eyes, she had a bullet scar as proof of that…
"Hellooo?" Margo said, "cookies for sale!"
Then Edith jumped and made a face at the door's peephole.
"Ahwuh!" Was the surprised male voice that Ripley's ears picked up. Edith went to sit on the wooden step, resting her head on her palms impatiently.
Agnes made Ripley put her down, and stood next to Margo holding her tiny unicorn toy.
"Go eh-way, I'm not home." Came a slightly accented voice, possibly Russian or Hungarian… Ripley distinctly remembered the many different accents of her Mother's many bed-partners.
"Uh, yes you are, I heard you." And there went Margo with her infallible logic, it never failed to make Ripley want to grin.
"Dis…" The man paused for a second, "is, a ree- cor- dingg. Leave a message, beeep."
Ripley didn't know what she wanted to do more, laugh at the stupidity, or to feel insulted.
But when Edith's white boot kicked the door…
"Ow!" Came the accented voice.
"Goodbye recorded message." Said Agnes innocently.
"Agnes, come on!" Margo called out to the five year old, whom quickly followed.
In the end as they walked away, Ripley did both… On the inside….
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Later…
As the four girls walked back to the orphanage, Edith swung from lamp posts, walking along the sidewalk's edge.
Then she jumped into a puddle, splashing her other three companions.
"Ugh! Edith, stop it." Margo said sternly, pointing a finger at Edith.
"What?" Edith retorted, "I was just walking." Then she began to scoot her white boots along the street as she walked…
Walking up the steps to the brick building that was the orphanage was like walking into a dungeon for Ripley, the teen was sure that the other three felt the same.
Soon enough the four of them stood before Miss Hattie's desk, with Margo holding the clipboard.
"Hi Miss Hattie, we're back." The four of children echoed together as they stood behind the line on the floor in front of Miss Hattie's desk.
The fat, red-headed woman slid her chair to look at the four, and in a fake sweet voice said, "hello girls."
"Anyone come to adopt us while we were out?" Tiny Agnes could barely peek over Miss Hattie's desk as she asked this.
"Hm…" Miss Hattie said quietly, "Let me think… No." Her answer was cold, and of all mean as her hand hit the desk with a meaty thud.
Ripley's attention was captured when Edith slid a mudpie on Miss Hattie's desk.
"Edith! What," The robust woman, "did you put on my desk?"
"A mudpie." Edith said proudly.
Miss Hattie sighed in annoyance, "you're never gonna get adopted Edith, you know that don't you?"
Ripley wanted to stab that woman so, so, sooooooo badly at that moment…
"Yeah, I know." Edith's eyes grew a little downcast.
Okay, Ripley really wished that Kazimir was alive, so that he would've used Miss Hattie as an autopsy doll…
"Good," Miss Hattie said with a look of smug boredom, "so how did it go girls? Did we meet our quota?"
"Mmm, sorta." Margo answered as she held the clipboard, adjusting her glasses she spoke again, "we sold forty-three Mini-Mints, thirty Choco-Swirlies and eighteen Coco-Nutties."
'Dear God,' thought Ripley, 'that bad?'
Miss Hattie sighed, then stood up, holding a picture frame, stepping out from behind her desk she said, "you say that like it's a great sale day... LOOK AT MY FACE!"
Suddenly Miss Hattie was all up in their personal space, nearly startling the bejeebers out of all four of them.
"Do you still think," The woman looked menacingly at Margo, "it's a great sale day?"
Miss Hattie put the frame on the wall, "eighteen Coco-Nutties, I think, that we can do a little better than that, don't you?" Miss Hattie's voice just grated on the thirteen-year old's nerves the more and more she talked, "Besides, we wouldn't want to spend the weekend in the 'Box of Shame' would we? Oh, no?"
"No Miss Hattie." They all replied, though Ripley had a little more bite to it, barely even perceivable.
"Okay now, off you go, go clean something of mine." Miss Hattie dismissed them.
"Hi Penny." The four girls said when the passed the 'Box of Shame.'
"Hi guys." Came the small voice of Penny from inside the cardboard box.
Ripley, Margo, Edith and Agnes then retired to their shared room and got ready for bed. But just before that, the three girls kneeled on their cots, and said their prayers as diligently as they had always done every night since they'd arrived.
Ripley had spaced out, so she only caught the middle and end of their prayer.
"-oh and to watch over us and bless that we have a good night's sleep." Margo prayed.
"and bless that while we're sleeping, no bugs wilk crawl into our ears and lay eggs eggs in our brains." Edith grinned devilishly.
"Great," Margo rolled her eyes, "thanks for that image Edith."
"And please bless that someone will adopt us and, that the Mommy and Daddy will be nice…" Agnes paused, then added, "and have a pet unicorn. Amen."
After that they all tucked themselves in beneath their thinning covers to sleep…
"Unicorns I love them,
Unicorns I love them,
Uni-, uni, uni, unicorns, I love them,
Uni, unicorns, I'm gonna pet one,
Hm, hm, yar!
So I bought one…"
Somehow, Ripley couldn't find it in herself to feel annoyed by the song, hell, the thirteen-year old would never admit it but… She used to love unicorns too, before her Mother decided to rape her childhood naivety and dreams with a chainsaw…
Hearing Agnes singing innocently, made Ripley's chest hurt a little…
…
Ripley really, really, really, really had a difficult time not getting up in the middle of the night and murdering Miss Hattie while everyone slept that night…
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The Next Day…
'Another day, another crappy box of cookies to sell..' Thought a truly bitchy Ripley as they walked to another residence in search of another sap to purchase the crappy things not even worth being called cookies.
'Why is there a crater in the street with a man inside it?' Ripley wondered briefly as they approached a house surrounded by huge white walls. 'Probably some rich dude...'
"Holy f- flip!" Ripley had barely enough time to censor herself as weapons and rocket launcher just came out of the wall.
"Cool." Edith breathed with this small, devious little smile on her face.
"Uh, hi!" Margo started, "we're orphans from Mrs. Hattie's Home for Girls.."
"I don't care, beat it!" Came a nasally male voice from the intercom.
"Oh come on! We selling cookies, so, you know, we can, have a better future." Margo said, getting closer to the intercom camera.
Of course, Ripley was still staring apprehensively at the, FREAKING ROCKET LAUNCHERS POINTED AT THEMMMM!
"Um, wait, do you have Coco-Nutties?" Came the nasally voice again, Ripley resisted the urge to gag, seriously? Those were the crappiest cookies ever, who the hell would be that rich and still be that stupid to buy them?
"Uh, yeah." Margo said, facing the intercom again.
Suddenly the rocket launchers seemed to fold up and go back to whence the came, making Ripley's shoulders relax a little.
Two minutes later, Ripley found her patience and nerves being grated once again when confronted by what the teen could only describe as an orange monstrosity.
The man had a freaking, bowl cut, a huge nose, the dorkiest square glasses Ripley had ever seen, a pot belly that was most likely not healthy for that age, and to top it all off?
The man was wearing a freaking warm-up suit, orange, with white stripes…
Ripley was even further tested when they entered his huge house, when the man tried to act 'cool.'
She wanted to strangle the man, especially when he started to brag about himself as he filled out his order form.
Then he did this 'dance.' It involved pelvic thrusts in the air with a slight sway to a beat that wasn't there…
Ripley had forced herself to not say anything as Margo took care of the sale.
When they left the house, and the property…
Ripley spazzed and rubbed her one eye frantically...
"Oh GOD!" The thirteen-year old cried out in dramatic horror, "mindsoap, dammit! I need mindsoap! I'll never be able to unsee that! Uhgh!"
Edith made a fake retching noise in agreement.
"Come on, at least we made a sale. A big sale for tomorrow you know?" Margo said, but Edith and Ripley could tell that the ten-year old brunette agreed with them…
OOOOOO
Upon coming back to the orphanage, the girls had to face Miss Hattie. And her, "you know you'll never get adopted' speech. Ripley scowled, suddenly glad the woman had never discovered her switchblade, she still had the chance to kill that bitch if the situation called for it…
That night, Ripley decided that, for morale's sake, she would join the girls' in their prayers before going to bed.
Of course, they didn't have all that much to look forward to except their dance recital right? Ripley tucked Agnes in out of habit, before going to her own bed…
Upon falling asleep, the three older girls were of alike minds, asking the same question…
When would the cycle end? When would it change? Was there a chance at all?
These were the thoughts that plagued them as they fell asleep, before falling into slumber like all the nights before…
Translation/s:
Sliby, sliby, tak mnoho slibu. Jste nic, ale lhani, slib jistic. K certu s tebou, sakra do pekla. = (Czech) Promises, promises, so many promises. You are nothing but a lying promise breaker. Damn you, damn you to hell.
Kazimir = (Czech, male name) means 'the great destroyer'
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A/N: Hey! Yup, I finally did it! Chapter One! WOOOOO! That was fifteen pages of Calibri(body), eleven point font! I never intended for the chapter to be so long, but the flashback took like, what? Four pages? Five? Hell, I'm too tired to go back up there and count… Anyways, yup, you saw a Ripley and Margo bonding moment there. I'm proud of myself, don't worry, I won't concentrate on Ripley too much, but once I started writing this is what I got. I know I promised you guys Gru and you got 'im. Just, behind a door, that's all. Sorry Vector fans, I'm sympathetic sure, but I really didn't like him at all. And if I got the order of the parts that were featured in the movie I apologize, I've only seen the movie once and if there's something to be fixed, I'll fix it when I buy the DVD. Yeah as far as character development, I showed a little more of Margo, Edith, Agnes and Ripley's personalities. So yeah, tell me how I did, please! Constructive criticism is preferred, reviews keep me happy. REVIEW PLZ! Thank you my wonderful REVIEWERS! =)
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NOTICE, did you notice the tidbit of info I gave on Ripley's brother?
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PS: Try to guess what the 7 Golden Rules are.