Family Matters
A/N: Okay I don't really know where I am going to go with this or if I'm going to continue it. It's been an idea of mine since the last time A&E aired Childhood memories, the character Mercedes is from one of my Role play groups I belong too, and when I saw childhood memories the idea came. Okay a few hours after when I was trying to sleep. That's how most of my ideas of mine come to me. So this story is my take on Childhood Memories. Fill in some of the scenes because my damn tape messed up before I could get all the lines I wanted. So let me know what you think. Like I said I'm not sure I'm gunna go on with it, unless you all really want me too, other wise it will just be this.
A/N 2: The beginning may not be just as it was during the episode because that was that part that didn't work. I didn't have sound so I could get what they were saying, so I'm trying to recall the lines here as much as possible
I woke up after havin' another dream. They're all the same, all the time. They may vary a little, but still all the same. My old man beatin' on my Ma, or whoever he could get his hands on, me, Mikey, or Mercedes. It didn't matter who jus' so long as he could pound on 'em. I stared out the open window the curtains blowing in the window. I quickly got up and shut the window locking it.
I walked into the kitchen my Ma was standing the counter pouring whiskey into her coffee. I stopped in the middle of the living room. "Ma?" I asked a little shocked.
"What? I had a little too much to drink with my son last night." She said to me walking over to the table and sitting down.
My sister Mercedes walked past me and into the kitchen herself. "She does that every mornin'" She said with a shrug.
She walked to the refrigerator and took out a small carton of orange juice, shook it a little then opened it, drinking from it she sat down at the table. She's become so - so thin. I'm really worried for her. At 23 years old, 5'6" she should weight 'bout 120lbs right. Not Merc, she weights like 'bout 98lbs. 'Nothin' 'bout skin and bones. She sat across from my Ma, with her knees up to her chest. "I see ya still sleep with the lights on." I said to her sitting in the middle of my Ma and Mercedes. She narrowed her eyes and gave a short nod.
"So what's it to ya?" She said rolling her eyes.
Ya really can't talk to this girl no-more, she bites ya head off. Sleepin' with the light on is somethin' she's been doing since she was six. She won't sleep at all with it off. She terrified of the dark, that and small spaces. Ya can thank my old man for that. When he and my Ma would fight, she'd try and stop it as best as she could. For a six year old that is. My old man didn't like that much, he would pull off his belt and give her a good whipping. Then lock her in this closet that was in our basement. It was small, dark, often filled with spiders. Hell even I would be afraid of it, so at six years old it must have been real terrifying. He'd leave her in there for hours, once he'd pass out Mikey and I would do whatever we could to pick the lock and get her out of there. She was so small, so little, she was a baby still, and my old man would jus' lock her in there, like a dog. Still till this day, she hates the dark, small spaces and spiders. I watched her for 'nother minuet or so.
"What the hell are ya lookin' at?" She hissed at me.
"Is, that all ya goin' to have for breakfast?" I asked her, staring at her orange juice. "Ya ain't goin' to eat nothin' or somethin' - anythin'? Jesus Christ Mercedes, ya gotta eat somethin'!"
She just stared at me. I could tell she was pissed. But I was right, she had to eat somethin' if she could only see what she was doin' to herself, what it was doin' to me. How it was killin' me in the inside. How watchin' my baby sister kill, herself slowly was killin' me. She still didn't take her eyes off me.
"Why don't ya get off my back Mo! Huh? Damn it, this holier-than-thou bullshit, its really gotta stop." She said throwing her carton of juice across the room.
I took a deep breath and sat there for a minuet, listening to her go on before I had enough. "Don' ya see that you're killin' ya self Mercedes? Huh? Look at ya." I could feel tears forming but I wasn't 'bout to let them fall.
"Go to hell!" She said coldly, before storming off into her bedroom slamming the door. My Ma jumped.
"Why always have to do that Maurice? Piss her off like that?" My Ma said taking her glasses off and looking right at me.
I stood up from the table, I looked at my Ma. "So ya jus' goin' to let the girl kill herself? Ma she needs to eat, she needs help Ma - she's sick." I said my voice cracking, knowing jus' how sick my sister was. How at any minuet she could die. What pisses me off even more, is that - this is all my old mans fault. He's the reason she's so messed up. Sometimes I hate myself, I hate myself for not being able to do more. I hate myself for not being able to help that scared little girl, locked all alone in that cold, dark, small closet. Cryin' and scared.
"She eats Maurice, maybe if ya came around more often you would know."
"Yeah she eats a'ight then goes into the bathroom hunches over a toilet with her finger down her throat, throwing it up." I told her shaking my head. I ignored the other part about me not coming over more often. I walked away from the table and down back to her room. I knocked lightly at her door. "Mercedes, can I come in?"
"Yeah I guess." She said softly.
I sighed to myself; I could tell she had been crying. I opened the door and walked in. It was time for a talk. One that was serious; one that should'a been down a long time ago; one between brother and sister.
A/N: Okay I don't really know where I am going to go with this or if I'm going to continue it. It's been an idea of mine since the last time A&E aired Childhood memories, the character Mercedes is from one of my Role play groups I belong too, and when I saw childhood memories the idea came. Okay a few hours after when I was trying to sleep. That's how most of my ideas of mine come to me. So this story is my take on Childhood Memories. Fill in some of the scenes because my damn tape messed up before I could get all the lines I wanted. So let me know what you think. Like I said I'm not sure I'm gunna go on with it, unless you all really want me too, other wise it will just be this.
A/N 2: The beginning may not be just as it was during the episode because that was that part that didn't work. I didn't have sound so I could get what they were saying, so I'm trying to recall the lines here as much as possible
I woke up after havin' another dream. They're all the same, all the time. They may vary a little, but still all the same. My old man beatin' on my Ma, or whoever he could get his hands on, me, Mikey, or Mercedes. It didn't matter who jus' so long as he could pound on 'em. I stared out the open window the curtains blowing in the window. I quickly got up and shut the window locking it.
I walked into the kitchen my Ma was standing the counter pouring whiskey into her coffee. I stopped in the middle of the living room. "Ma?" I asked a little shocked.
"What? I had a little too much to drink with my son last night." She said to me walking over to the table and sitting down.
My sister Mercedes walked past me and into the kitchen herself. "She does that every mornin'" She said with a shrug.
She walked to the refrigerator and took out a small carton of orange juice, shook it a little then opened it, drinking from it she sat down at the table. She's become so - so thin. I'm really worried for her. At 23 years old, 5'6" she should weight 'bout 120lbs right. Not Merc, she weights like 'bout 98lbs. 'Nothin' 'bout skin and bones. She sat across from my Ma, with her knees up to her chest. "I see ya still sleep with the lights on." I said to her sitting in the middle of my Ma and Mercedes. She narrowed her eyes and gave a short nod.
"So what's it to ya?" She said rolling her eyes.
Ya really can't talk to this girl no-more, she bites ya head off. Sleepin' with the light on is somethin' she's been doing since she was six. She won't sleep at all with it off. She terrified of the dark, that and small spaces. Ya can thank my old man for that. When he and my Ma would fight, she'd try and stop it as best as she could. For a six year old that is. My old man didn't like that much, he would pull off his belt and give her a good whipping. Then lock her in this closet that was in our basement. It was small, dark, often filled with spiders. Hell even I would be afraid of it, so at six years old it must have been real terrifying. He'd leave her in there for hours, once he'd pass out Mikey and I would do whatever we could to pick the lock and get her out of there. She was so small, so little, she was a baby still, and my old man would jus' lock her in there, like a dog. Still till this day, she hates the dark, small spaces and spiders. I watched her for 'nother minuet or so.
"What the hell are ya lookin' at?" She hissed at me.
"Is, that all ya goin' to have for breakfast?" I asked her, staring at her orange juice. "Ya ain't goin' to eat nothin' or somethin' - anythin'? Jesus Christ Mercedes, ya gotta eat somethin'!"
She just stared at me. I could tell she was pissed. But I was right, she had to eat somethin' if she could only see what she was doin' to herself, what it was doin' to me. How it was killin' me in the inside. How watchin' my baby sister kill, herself slowly was killin' me. She still didn't take her eyes off me.
"Why don't ya get off my back Mo! Huh? Damn it, this holier-than-thou bullshit, its really gotta stop." She said throwing her carton of juice across the room.
I took a deep breath and sat there for a minuet, listening to her go on before I had enough. "Don' ya see that you're killin' ya self Mercedes? Huh? Look at ya." I could feel tears forming but I wasn't 'bout to let them fall.
"Go to hell!" She said coldly, before storming off into her bedroom slamming the door. My Ma jumped.
"Why always have to do that Maurice? Piss her off like that?" My Ma said taking her glasses off and looking right at me.
I stood up from the table, I looked at my Ma. "So ya jus' goin' to let the girl kill herself? Ma she needs to eat, she needs help Ma - she's sick." I said my voice cracking, knowing jus' how sick my sister was. How at any minuet she could die. What pisses me off even more, is that - this is all my old mans fault. He's the reason she's so messed up. Sometimes I hate myself, I hate myself for not being able to do more. I hate myself for not being able to help that scared little girl, locked all alone in that cold, dark, small closet. Cryin' and scared.
"She eats Maurice, maybe if ya came around more often you would know."
"Yeah she eats a'ight then goes into the bathroom hunches over a toilet with her finger down her throat, throwing it up." I told her shaking my head. I ignored the other part about me not coming over more often. I walked away from the table and down back to her room. I knocked lightly at her door. "Mercedes, can I come in?"
"Yeah I guess." She said softly.
I sighed to myself; I could tell she had been crying. I opened the door and walked in. It was time for a talk. One that was serious; one that should'a been down a long time ago; one between brother and sister.