A young girl sat in the corner of the room, her knees brought up to her
chest with her chin resting on them. The rest of the children playing paid
her no mind, well, almost all of them. Three girls in the corner of the
room started to whisper.
"Can you believe how many times she's been brought back?" said the one with the curly hair.
"She looks nice, but she must be defective" a skinny blond piped up.
"I know, she's been in and out of here, like, 10 times already!" another said.
"Actually, it's been 13 times," the young girl stood up and walked over to them, her arms crossed and her diffident nature slowly shedding away.
The girls stopped talking for a moment to stare at the girl in question. She had short auburn hair pulled back with some loose strands framing her face, vivid green eyes and pale skin. This girl really was pretty, but she was also an outcast.
"Pss, you must really be a handful if no other parent could keep hold of you," it was meant as an insult, but not taken that way.
"Yeah, Ah'm a regular rascal," the girl said flippantly.
"Right, well, it's probably because of your freakishly pale skin, or is it that totally fake accent,"
"Or is it that stupid look that crosses her face all the time,"
"You know what they say, the outside reflects the inside,"
The girls laughed for a few moments as the victim of their taunting just stood there, arms crossed not really caring what they said, well, until they crossed the line.
"You know what they say, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree,"
"Yeah, her parents were probably too stupid to raise their kid,"
The young girl balled her hands into fists at her side, "Don't ya even thank about talking about mah parents."
"Oh, did we hit a soft spot?"
"Temper, temper,"
"Probably got that from her drunken father,"
"Or her slut of a mom,"
"Probably took her forever to find who the real father was!"
"Stop talking, just shut up, ya'll, none of ya'll, knew mah parents so just stop talking lahke that!"
"Like what? We're just saying the truth. Your whore of a mother and drug addict father probably left you on those stone steps out there just as easily as taking out the trash!"
"Trash! Yeah she is trash. Like mother and father she's just some stinking garbage rotting up the-"
The girl couldn't finish. The girl who had endured their insults thus far couldn't take it anymore.
"TAKE BACK WHAT YA SAID ABOUT 'EM!! YA NEVAH KNEW THEM! AND YA'LL DON'T KNOW ME SO DON'T FUCKING TRY TO PLAY LAHKE YOU DO!!"
By now most of the adults were trying to get through the circle of kids to the fight. The auburn haired one had knocked down two of the girls and was now beating the other one into the ground.
"YA FUCKING BITCH! DON'T YA EVAH THAHNK YA ARE BETTAH THEN THEM-" The girl was lifted up by two separate adults who were struggling to hold this kicking, screaming child away from the half passed out scared little girl. After about a half hour, the young girl had settled down and now sat quietly, with a defiant look on her face, in the corner.
"Now Marie-" a young woman began to say to the brown haired girl.
"I told ya, Ah don't go by that name," Marie did not look happy.
"Now, now, of course you do. It was the name your first foster parents gave you," the lady said reproachfully."
Marie scoffed and rolled her eyes, "and we all know how they turned out."
"Marie, I know you've had some, um, trouble with past fam-"
"That's the understatement of the century. And don't ya dare call those derange psychopaths family," Marie's eyes started to shine and the last part of her sentence came out hoarse. She turned away and glared at the door.
"Marie," the lady began again apologetically, "I really am sorry about all that, but they all seemed like respectable members of the society. It was just bad luck is all, we have to keep trying. We'll get you a family don't you worry," she reached her hand over to Marie's who flinched away, "Marie," she practically whispered.
"Well, what do ya expect?! Those people, if that's what ya choose ta call um, are monsters and Ah'm suppose tah want that?"
"Just one more Marie. It will be the most important relationship you have all your life- is that what your, your brawl started over? Were they taunting you about your, misfortunate adoptions?"
Marie stiffened, "naw I just wanted to beet tha shit outta some one, after all Ah had the best teachers."
"Marie-" the lady began a little unsure.
"Ya know, just forget it Ah don't care. Sell me tah the highest bidder that comes 'round" with that Marie got up and walked out the door.
The woman half got out of her chair to call after the girl but shook her head and sat back down leaning her head against the palms of her hands, her arms propped on the table.
"She's had it tough, huh?" A tall brunette man came in holding some steaming coffee in each hand offering one to the woman sitting down.
"Huh? Oh yes a terrible time. I don't believe I've seen you around-"
"Oh, knew here is all," he sat down across from the lady and she could have sworn she's seen his eyes flash yellow for a moment.
"So what exactly has happened so far?" the man had a weird smirk playing on his face, but the woman just shook it off.
"A few of her foster parents beat her, molested her, and a couple just locked her away and still more did- well, twisted sick things and-" the woman started to choke up and the man reached a hand over to sooth her, "it's just so wrong, the poor girl's been through so much. I just don't understand how this happens. All of the other adoptions are well, and the social workers choose a lot of potential people for Mike to sort through and choose for each child. I just-" she started to sob into her hands.
"It will be alright, just relax, it's just bad luck," the man seemed sympathetic but decided to stand up and leave, "I'm sorry I have to get back to work."
"I understand," the woman trailed off staring into her coffee cup.
As the man shut the door behind him he made sure no one was watching before he entered another door with the name 'Michael Shovitz' in big black letters. There he shut the door carefully before growing blue scales and red hair. A strange looking woman took his place briefly before she too turned into another person; a man with dark brown hair and a beer belly.
"Just one more twist of the screw," he whispered under his breath as a small smile started to form on his pudgy face as he pulled out a picture of Marie Leshire.
It had only been a week since Marie had moved in with her newest foster "father". She had seen woman come and go from his house and every night in her cold basement she covered her ears as best she could from the grotesque sounds of dear old daddy and nameless so and so.
Tonight Marie had done her usual chores of cleaning, making the meals, and fixing his drinks. She was only 7 years old, and she was mixing drinks for this drunken fool. As she passed him a shot a vodka he grabbed her wrists.
"Um, mah, mah hand?" Maria stuttered nervously. She didn't like that look in his eyes.
"What about it" he slurred.
"Ah- Ah need it back" Maria tried to step away but he pulled her wrist forward catching her off balance.
"You're a pretty small thing, but you're really pretty," he let go of her wrists and moved to pull back her hair making her scream from the pain of it. "Pipe down, I aint gonna hurt you. Actually, I think you might enjoy it." His hands started roaming and Marie could tell where this would go.
Marie panicked and in her flustered state she grabbed the vase and broke it over his head. He immediately let go and Marie ran away and up the stairs as fast as she could. Hearing his roaring voice cuss out words she was quite fearful of, she ran down the upstairs hallway to the window. 'Dammit why does tha' damn door have to be right next to his drinking table'. The window was her only escape, but it was a story from the ground. She figured she'd shimmy down the drain pipe, but as she tried to open the window she found it a very difficult. It was rusted shut and not budging a bit.
Marie then heard the drunken fool yell in a booming, frightening voice, "Where are you Marie! You get your ass down here right now. Don't you make me come up there and get you girl!!"
Marie made a small noise of fear as she frantically tried to pull up the window. "Come on, come on!" she whispered frantically. It was then she heard her foster father's heavy footsteps pounding on the stairs as he made his way up cursing at her all the while.
As he reached the top of the stairs Marie felt a new power come along with her fear and she pried the window open with all the strength she had. As she felt the cool rush of air against her face she thought, 'this is it, mommy and daddy, I'll see you soon.' People had thought she had forgotten her real parents. She was left on the orphanage stairs at 3 years old, but she remembered, vividly she remembered. Her father was taking medication for his headaches, but somehow his pain medication had gotten mixed up with another medication that made him go crazy. He shot his wife, son and himself, but left Marie behind. She had no recollection of being dropped of at the orphanage steps so far away from her home in Mississippi, and when they inquired about her family she stayed mute so they figured she had no memory of it. Now as she stepped out onto the narrow window sill, she leapt into the air letting the sky take her to her death. She was in such ecstasy that she didn't hear her foster father's mad dash down the hall to her, or smell his ragged drunken breath, but she did feel his strong arms grab at her mid calves and through her back into the hallway with so much force that on landing she felt her collar bone snap. She did hear him slam down that damn window and she felt his foot connect with her stomach several times.
He broke 3 ribs and bruised her badly. When she rolled over to huddle into a ball he kicked her back. When she crawled to the stairs to get a hold of the railing to stand he through her down the stairs. Now, bloody and beaten at the bottom of the stairs, she wept. She cursed herself for crying, she hated herself for being so weak. She'd been cut before, scared before, beaten and abused before, but never had she felt such pain.
As her foster father move down the stairs she leaned against the wall and tried to catch her breath and stop crying.
"There now" he said in an unbelievable calm voice, "look what you made me do. I didn't want to do that but you just wouldn't listen. Now be a good little girl and listen. Do exactly what I say."
As he leaned down she felt his hand on her skin and cursed him for it. How dare he touch her? How dare any of them touch her?! Humans were disgusting filth, with tainted hearts and cruel minds. There was no good in them, none at all. How dare he think of touching her?! She cursed herself again for her weakness, for her sobbing tears and helpless nature. She cursed this body of hers for not being stronger, and she wished she could take from these pathetic beings that call themselves human, what they had taken from her. She was once happy, she was once loved, but now she was just a rag doll to throw around. 'CURSE THIS SKIN OF MIND FOR BEING SO DAMN DEFENSLESS!!!' As she thought that a terrible pain wracked her body, worse than before. After that beating and all her old wounds reopening, she thought nothing could be worse. She was wrong. It felt as if the whole universe were ripping and tugging at her, yet at the same time she felt horribly connected with it all and its sinister nature. The pain, she couldn't stand all the pain nor the strong pulse that beat inside of her worse than two colliding tectonic plates shake the earth. Then it stopped.
As she looked down she saw her 'father' beaten and broken on the ground. All of what he had done to her was done to him. She still had her marks and maims, oh yes, but after that excruciating experience she hardly noticed. What she did notice, in her wide eyed terror, was that his now sickly pale hand was stuck to her neck. As her face contracted in concentration she let out several sobs and started to shake. Finally, and with a sick sucking sound, his hand was removed and fell to the floor with a dead bang. Dead. He was dead. 'Oh Gawd Ah killed him!' She clutched her head as she screamed out loud to what she thought was an empty house, "AH KILLED HIM!!"
"He deserved it" Not expecting an answer, Marie was thoroughly stunned when she turned around to see a blue woman staring at her with the most brilliant yellow eyes and cynical smile.
Marie put her hand to her mouth and the other to her throbbing side, "the devils come ta take mah to hell," she whispered her epiphany as Mystic began to laugh.
"No dear girl, I am no devil," she bent down and touched her covered shoulder, "those people, those parents who were suppose to love and care for you, they are the devils.
Marie, partly coming to her senses at the blue woman's touched shrieked and backed away from it, "don't touch mah!!" getting up quickly she winced at her pains.
"I came here to protect you. My friend, she lives with me, she saw this was going to happen," Mystic began.
"Saw what was ta come, sounds lahke witch craft" Marie took a couple steps back.
Mystic advanced a couple steps forward, "No my dear, it wasn't witch craft. We are like you, we are known as mutants."
"No, no! JUST STAY AWAY FROM MEH!!!" With that Marie ran away, impressively ignoring the pain this was causing throughout her body. As she ran down the black, darks street she swore to herself, 'no, nevah again will Ah cry lahke this. Ah will nevah feel again. Ah will nevah let anyone hurt mah and AH WILL NOT CRY!!'
"Can you believe how many times she's been brought back?" said the one with the curly hair.
"She looks nice, but she must be defective" a skinny blond piped up.
"I know, she's been in and out of here, like, 10 times already!" another said.
"Actually, it's been 13 times," the young girl stood up and walked over to them, her arms crossed and her diffident nature slowly shedding away.
The girls stopped talking for a moment to stare at the girl in question. She had short auburn hair pulled back with some loose strands framing her face, vivid green eyes and pale skin. This girl really was pretty, but she was also an outcast.
"Pss, you must really be a handful if no other parent could keep hold of you," it was meant as an insult, but not taken that way.
"Yeah, Ah'm a regular rascal," the girl said flippantly.
"Right, well, it's probably because of your freakishly pale skin, or is it that totally fake accent,"
"Or is it that stupid look that crosses her face all the time,"
"You know what they say, the outside reflects the inside,"
The girls laughed for a few moments as the victim of their taunting just stood there, arms crossed not really caring what they said, well, until they crossed the line.
"You know what they say, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree,"
"Yeah, her parents were probably too stupid to raise their kid,"
The young girl balled her hands into fists at her side, "Don't ya even thank about talking about mah parents."
"Oh, did we hit a soft spot?"
"Temper, temper,"
"Probably got that from her drunken father,"
"Or her slut of a mom,"
"Probably took her forever to find who the real father was!"
"Stop talking, just shut up, ya'll, none of ya'll, knew mah parents so just stop talking lahke that!"
"Like what? We're just saying the truth. Your whore of a mother and drug addict father probably left you on those stone steps out there just as easily as taking out the trash!"
"Trash! Yeah she is trash. Like mother and father she's just some stinking garbage rotting up the-"
The girl couldn't finish. The girl who had endured their insults thus far couldn't take it anymore.
"TAKE BACK WHAT YA SAID ABOUT 'EM!! YA NEVAH KNEW THEM! AND YA'LL DON'T KNOW ME SO DON'T FUCKING TRY TO PLAY LAHKE YOU DO!!"
By now most of the adults were trying to get through the circle of kids to the fight. The auburn haired one had knocked down two of the girls and was now beating the other one into the ground.
"YA FUCKING BITCH! DON'T YA EVAH THAHNK YA ARE BETTAH THEN THEM-" The girl was lifted up by two separate adults who were struggling to hold this kicking, screaming child away from the half passed out scared little girl. After about a half hour, the young girl had settled down and now sat quietly, with a defiant look on her face, in the corner.
"Now Marie-" a young woman began to say to the brown haired girl.
"I told ya, Ah don't go by that name," Marie did not look happy.
"Now, now, of course you do. It was the name your first foster parents gave you," the lady said reproachfully."
Marie scoffed and rolled her eyes, "and we all know how they turned out."
"Marie, I know you've had some, um, trouble with past fam-"
"That's the understatement of the century. And don't ya dare call those derange psychopaths family," Marie's eyes started to shine and the last part of her sentence came out hoarse. She turned away and glared at the door.
"Marie," the lady began again apologetically, "I really am sorry about all that, but they all seemed like respectable members of the society. It was just bad luck is all, we have to keep trying. We'll get you a family don't you worry," she reached her hand over to Marie's who flinched away, "Marie," she practically whispered.
"Well, what do ya expect?! Those people, if that's what ya choose ta call um, are monsters and Ah'm suppose tah want that?"
"Just one more Marie. It will be the most important relationship you have all your life- is that what your, your brawl started over? Were they taunting you about your, misfortunate adoptions?"
Marie stiffened, "naw I just wanted to beet tha shit outta some one, after all Ah had the best teachers."
"Marie-" the lady began a little unsure.
"Ya know, just forget it Ah don't care. Sell me tah the highest bidder that comes 'round" with that Marie got up and walked out the door.
The woman half got out of her chair to call after the girl but shook her head and sat back down leaning her head against the palms of her hands, her arms propped on the table.
"She's had it tough, huh?" A tall brunette man came in holding some steaming coffee in each hand offering one to the woman sitting down.
"Huh? Oh yes a terrible time. I don't believe I've seen you around-"
"Oh, knew here is all," he sat down across from the lady and she could have sworn she's seen his eyes flash yellow for a moment.
"So what exactly has happened so far?" the man had a weird smirk playing on his face, but the woman just shook it off.
"A few of her foster parents beat her, molested her, and a couple just locked her away and still more did- well, twisted sick things and-" the woman started to choke up and the man reached a hand over to sooth her, "it's just so wrong, the poor girl's been through so much. I just don't understand how this happens. All of the other adoptions are well, and the social workers choose a lot of potential people for Mike to sort through and choose for each child. I just-" she started to sob into her hands.
"It will be alright, just relax, it's just bad luck," the man seemed sympathetic but decided to stand up and leave, "I'm sorry I have to get back to work."
"I understand," the woman trailed off staring into her coffee cup.
As the man shut the door behind him he made sure no one was watching before he entered another door with the name 'Michael Shovitz' in big black letters. There he shut the door carefully before growing blue scales and red hair. A strange looking woman took his place briefly before she too turned into another person; a man with dark brown hair and a beer belly.
"Just one more twist of the screw," he whispered under his breath as a small smile started to form on his pudgy face as he pulled out a picture of Marie Leshire.
It had only been a week since Marie had moved in with her newest foster "father". She had seen woman come and go from his house and every night in her cold basement she covered her ears as best she could from the grotesque sounds of dear old daddy and nameless so and so.
Tonight Marie had done her usual chores of cleaning, making the meals, and fixing his drinks. She was only 7 years old, and she was mixing drinks for this drunken fool. As she passed him a shot a vodka he grabbed her wrists.
"Um, mah, mah hand?" Maria stuttered nervously. She didn't like that look in his eyes.
"What about it" he slurred.
"Ah- Ah need it back" Maria tried to step away but he pulled her wrist forward catching her off balance.
"You're a pretty small thing, but you're really pretty," he let go of her wrists and moved to pull back her hair making her scream from the pain of it. "Pipe down, I aint gonna hurt you. Actually, I think you might enjoy it." His hands started roaming and Marie could tell where this would go.
Marie panicked and in her flustered state she grabbed the vase and broke it over his head. He immediately let go and Marie ran away and up the stairs as fast as she could. Hearing his roaring voice cuss out words she was quite fearful of, she ran down the upstairs hallway to the window. 'Dammit why does tha' damn door have to be right next to his drinking table'. The window was her only escape, but it was a story from the ground. She figured she'd shimmy down the drain pipe, but as she tried to open the window she found it a very difficult. It was rusted shut and not budging a bit.
Marie then heard the drunken fool yell in a booming, frightening voice, "Where are you Marie! You get your ass down here right now. Don't you make me come up there and get you girl!!"
Marie made a small noise of fear as she frantically tried to pull up the window. "Come on, come on!" she whispered frantically. It was then she heard her foster father's heavy footsteps pounding on the stairs as he made his way up cursing at her all the while.
As he reached the top of the stairs Marie felt a new power come along with her fear and she pried the window open with all the strength she had. As she felt the cool rush of air against her face she thought, 'this is it, mommy and daddy, I'll see you soon.' People had thought she had forgotten her real parents. She was left on the orphanage stairs at 3 years old, but she remembered, vividly she remembered. Her father was taking medication for his headaches, but somehow his pain medication had gotten mixed up with another medication that made him go crazy. He shot his wife, son and himself, but left Marie behind. She had no recollection of being dropped of at the orphanage steps so far away from her home in Mississippi, and when they inquired about her family she stayed mute so they figured she had no memory of it. Now as she stepped out onto the narrow window sill, she leapt into the air letting the sky take her to her death. She was in such ecstasy that she didn't hear her foster father's mad dash down the hall to her, or smell his ragged drunken breath, but she did feel his strong arms grab at her mid calves and through her back into the hallway with so much force that on landing she felt her collar bone snap. She did hear him slam down that damn window and she felt his foot connect with her stomach several times.
He broke 3 ribs and bruised her badly. When she rolled over to huddle into a ball he kicked her back. When she crawled to the stairs to get a hold of the railing to stand he through her down the stairs. Now, bloody and beaten at the bottom of the stairs, she wept. She cursed herself for crying, she hated herself for being so weak. She'd been cut before, scared before, beaten and abused before, but never had she felt such pain.
As her foster father move down the stairs she leaned against the wall and tried to catch her breath and stop crying.
"There now" he said in an unbelievable calm voice, "look what you made me do. I didn't want to do that but you just wouldn't listen. Now be a good little girl and listen. Do exactly what I say."
As he leaned down she felt his hand on her skin and cursed him for it. How dare he touch her? How dare any of them touch her?! Humans were disgusting filth, with tainted hearts and cruel minds. There was no good in them, none at all. How dare he think of touching her?! She cursed herself again for her weakness, for her sobbing tears and helpless nature. She cursed this body of hers for not being stronger, and she wished she could take from these pathetic beings that call themselves human, what they had taken from her. She was once happy, she was once loved, but now she was just a rag doll to throw around. 'CURSE THIS SKIN OF MIND FOR BEING SO DAMN DEFENSLESS!!!' As she thought that a terrible pain wracked her body, worse than before. After that beating and all her old wounds reopening, she thought nothing could be worse. She was wrong. It felt as if the whole universe were ripping and tugging at her, yet at the same time she felt horribly connected with it all and its sinister nature. The pain, she couldn't stand all the pain nor the strong pulse that beat inside of her worse than two colliding tectonic plates shake the earth. Then it stopped.
As she looked down she saw her 'father' beaten and broken on the ground. All of what he had done to her was done to him. She still had her marks and maims, oh yes, but after that excruciating experience she hardly noticed. What she did notice, in her wide eyed terror, was that his now sickly pale hand was stuck to her neck. As her face contracted in concentration she let out several sobs and started to shake. Finally, and with a sick sucking sound, his hand was removed and fell to the floor with a dead bang. Dead. He was dead. 'Oh Gawd Ah killed him!' She clutched her head as she screamed out loud to what she thought was an empty house, "AH KILLED HIM!!"
"He deserved it" Not expecting an answer, Marie was thoroughly stunned when she turned around to see a blue woman staring at her with the most brilliant yellow eyes and cynical smile.
Marie put her hand to her mouth and the other to her throbbing side, "the devils come ta take mah to hell," she whispered her epiphany as Mystic began to laugh.
"No dear girl, I am no devil," she bent down and touched her covered shoulder, "those people, those parents who were suppose to love and care for you, they are the devils.
Marie, partly coming to her senses at the blue woman's touched shrieked and backed away from it, "don't touch mah!!" getting up quickly she winced at her pains.
"I came here to protect you. My friend, she lives with me, she saw this was going to happen," Mystic began.
"Saw what was ta come, sounds lahke witch craft" Marie took a couple steps back.
Mystic advanced a couple steps forward, "No my dear, it wasn't witch craft. We are like you, we are known as mutants."
"No, no! JUST STAY AWAY FROM MEH!!!" With that Marie ran away, impressively ignoring the pain this was causing throughout her body. As she ran down the black, darks street she swore to herself, 'no, nevah again will Ah cry lahke this. Ah will nevah feel again. Ah will nevah let anyone hurt mah and AH WILL NOT CRY!!'