Yes, Really Changed
A young girl about the age of fourteen, with curly dark hair and earth-colored eyes sprinted jovially down the hall of the apartment complex. She was wearing a dance leotard with a see-through, light, rose skirt around her waist. She was swinging her duffel bag about carelessly. She felt so free.
At apartment 267 on the second floor, smells of chicken stir-fry filled the level. She eagerly opened the door.
"Hi Mom!"
A woman with dark brown skin, poofy black hair, and shining black eyes smiled at her.
"Hey, Mary-baby, how was dance?"
"Ok..." she muttered softly, with more to tell.
"Just 'ok'?"
"Yeah..."
She grinned at her daughter.
"Mary Magdalene, I don't believe you! Was there a boy that you met along the way...?"
Mary sighed. Her mother always assumed that there was a boy, and, she was usually right.
"What's his name, Mary?" her mother smiled softly and knowingly, "Was it the carpenter's son, from school?"
"Yes..." she whispered reluctantly.
The carpenter's son was about her age, possibly older by a few months. He was kind and creative and would be attending the private Jewish high school, as Mary would. He had dirty blonde curly hair and blue eyes the color of the sky. He was a bit modest and had few friends. There wasn't much Mary knew, except he was hauntingly perfect.
Her mother's voice stirred her thoughts.
"Mary, go wake up your father. Tell him dinner's ready..."
A chill went down her spine. He wasn't just grumpy when he woke, he was angry. He wasn't always, but, just lately. He lost his job, again, and was drinking himself out of it, again.
Mary caused moved toward her father. His skin was sickly pale, and his hair that was once curly and dark, was matted. His closed brown eyes were usually red from his liquor.
"Dad... Dad..." she gently shook him, "Daddy... dinner's ready... C'mon... wait up... Da—!"
He bolted upright, nearly knocking her over.
"WHAT THE HELL IS IT, YOU LITTLE SLUT?! WAKING ME UP!! YAHWEH!! I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK TO DO WITH YOU ANYMORE!!"
She gave a terrified squeak and ran into the kitchen, picking up her duffel bag where she left in on the counter, and ran into her room, slamming the door. She heard her mother, defending her.
"Joshua! Don't speak to her like that! She was waking you up for dinner—!"
"More of that shit? God, why the hell can't you make us a decent meal?"
"If you weren't drinking our income—" she muttered bitterly.
"What?! If you weren't spoiling that girl with the fancy school and the lessons—"
"It's out of my account, and the school doesn't charge as much. They know—"
"They know you're lazy! Fuck, Selene, I don't know why we keeping sending her there—!"
Mary opened the door, to see what was happening. Her father was swaying a bit and her mother was standing tall and tough like a redwood.
"I send her there so she doesn't become her father!"
He hit her. Her mother barely winced; she was tough and used to it.
"She looks nothing like me! You were sleeping around! Your family is nothing by Roman slave trash!"
"And yours is better?! They never write or speak to us, as if we don't exist!"
"They don't write to scum, Selene!"
"And yet they speak among themselves?!"
His arm swung back, then forth, colliding with her jaw as he shouted "Shut up!"
Selene was sprawled on the floor, dazed, for a moment. Then she picked herself up. Mary ran out of her room, to her mother.
"Mary, go to Mrs. Garrison's house, stand there until I call you.." she said as she began to escort her to the door.
"Mom, I don't want to go to Mrs. Garrison's. I want to stay with you, or you to come..."
"If you won't go to Mrs. Garrison's, then stay outside, I'll come and get you," Selene said as she shoved her daughter out.
"But, mom...."
The door closed, and locked.
"Mom?"
Angry voices were heard.
"Mom?"
Mary walked down two flights of stairs and left the building.
