PRINCESS OF DARKNESS
(Chapter II)
Things either get interesting or ridiculous, it depends on how you look at it. I don't and wouldn't want to own the Camdens. Believe me.
(By the way, this really isn't meant to be that realistic. Remember, most little girls aren't psychopaths.)
It was several days after the Sunday dinner.
Word was beginning to spread that Jenna was 'getting better'.
One or two people at school gave her encouraging comments.
Ruthie didn't like this at all.
How had Jenna managed to turn the whole situation around? She wondered.
She had no time to figure out the answer.
Instead, she wondered what terrible lie she could spread next. She just wasn't going to let Jenna coast through the rest of the school year. Ruthie wanted Jenna to suffer. She was still picking oatmeal out of her hair.
So, Ruthie began to think. What would be bad enough to get everyone back on the 'Jenna hate' bandwagon?
Ruthie suddenly had an idea.
It wasn't as shocking as homosexuality, but it certainly would make Jenna look like a vile little creature.
After school, that Friday, Ruthie Camden called her father and virtually begged him to invite Jenna over to dinner.
She sounded convincing. Of course, Ruthie didn't need to give much effort to sound convincing. Her family was very gullible, especially her father.
Eric did as he was commanded by his daughter, and invited the Livingston's over for another Sunday dinner. Jenna made sure her parents accepted.
The posturing between the two fourteen-year-old girls was unbelievable.
Both of them had plans.
Both of them wanted to destroy the other.
One of them would succeed.
On the Sunday of the second Livingston-Camden dinner, Ruthie Camden grabbed two kitchen gloves, slipped them on her hands, and snuck into her parents' room.
Eric and Annie, along with the rest of the family, were at church.
Ruthie feigned illness, so the Camden clan left her alone with the very responsible Martin, who was under the impression that Ruthie was asleep in her room.
Whilst in the master bedroom, Ruthie opened her mother's jewelry box, grabbed her mother's necklace, and slipped it into the pocket of her nightgown.
Part one of her plan was complete.
All that was left was to plant the necklace on Jenna when she arrived hours later.
Ruthie was satisfied with herself.
Not only that, but she would get a few extra hours of deserved sleep because of her 'fever'. (How did Ruthie manage to trick her parents into thinking she was sick? Well, explaining that would be so complicated, it would take up another story entirely. Let's just say it involved a baseball bat and a dog.)
Ruthie was extremely resourceful.
By the time she woke up, it was three in the afternoon and she felt as awake as she had felt in quite some time. It was rare Ruthie ever got more than five hours of sleep per night. She so much of her time pondering in bed, that by the time she ever got around to sleeping, it was well past twelve-thirty.
Ruthie would play the rest of the day as if she was getting better, but still slightly sick. That way, it wouldn't seem to unrealistic for her to get better, yet she would still be allowed to participate in dinner just long enough to leave a little present for Jenna.
Jenna, meanwhile, had a plan that would require the perfect execution. The timing had to be right. The acting had to be right. Everything had to be right. And if it wasn't, she would end up failing miserably.
But Jenna was confident.
She knew what she was doing.
In her previous visit to Casa del Camden, Jenna noticed an entrance to the attic. Jenna needed to get into that attic. She had a feeling. A feeling that there were things in there that no Camden wanted anyone else to see.
Maybe she would find Joy Enriquez, bound, gagged, and begging for food. Or maybe she would find incriminating documents, linking the Camdens to some sort of unholy crime that would turn them into instant pariahs.
Or maybe, just maybe... she could ruin Ruthie Camden's life.
She didn't hate the Camdens as a whole as much as she hated Ruthie.
More than anything, she wanted Ruthie to suffer.
To really, really suffer.
Jenna rubbed her hands together at the very thought of Ruthie Camden suffering. She needed it to happen. She thirsted for it.
The question was, how would she get into the attic?
Jenna pondered this.
It would seem impossible.
That is, until a light bulb went off in her head. She knew what to do.
She knew how to do it.
She would get in that attic.
Do some searching.
And maybe, just maybe, she would get some sweet, sweet, cold revenge.
That evening, the supposedly sick Ruthie Camden told her father she was well enough to stay downstairs 'just for a little while'. Meanwhile, Jenna Livingston perfected her plan. Both plans were fool proof.
Jenna and family arrived at the Camden household.
Eric welcomed them in. Ruthie was right behind him, dressed up for Sunday, while still maintaining an air of sickness. The occasional sneeze or cough certainly made the Livingston's aware that... Ruthie Camden was not well.
Meanwhile, Jenna was very polite to the Camdens. During the week, she met with Eric again. Of course, Ruthie didn't know this, and was surprised to hear it. It ruffled her feathers a bit, but she didn't mind.
Ruthie extended her arms to Jenna, offering to give her a hug. Of course, Jenna couldn't refuse. It certainly wouldn't look good. So, the two archenemies hugged, and mid-embrace, Ruthie discreetly dropped the necklace she had been clutching in her fist into Jenna's pocket.
Jenna and Ruthie broke apart. Before Ruthie could sit down, Jenna reached into her pocket, pulled out the necklace, and said (while extending her arm to Eric):
"Could you give this back to Ruthie for me, sir?"
Eric took the necklace, examined it, and realized that the necklace belonged to his wife.
"This is Annie's. Where did you get this?"
"It must have dropped out of Ruthie's pocket when she hugged me."
"I see. What were you doing with it, Ruthie?"
Ruthie hadn't been expecting this. Then again, this hadn't been her best thought out scheme. Ruthie merely sneezed and coughed violently, convincing her father she needed to be taken back to bed.
Of course, Ruthie would not sleep. She had ways of watching and/or listening to people when they least expected it. And, even though the youngest Camden daughter was upstairs in her room, she could still hear everything being said from the dinner table, thanks to impeccable hearing and a floor vent.
Jenna was putting on a complete act with the Camdens and Ruthie knew it. Granted, she was acting for a considerably smaller audience than the week before. The week before included Lucy, Kevin, Cecilia, Martin, and many other people who weren't blood relatives to the Camdens. This week, only Eric and Annie sat at the table with the Livingston's.
They listened as Jenna described her ordeal as a lesbian; she lamented how much time she wasted lusting over women when she could have easily been proposing marriage to men.
Ruthie grudgingly admired Jenna. She was a formidable foe. And Ruthie needed one to keep from being bored. Fighting with Jenna was certainly more fun than exposing the secrets of her own family.
"Reverend Camden," Jenna began from downstairs, "I would love to pay you back for all you've done for me. Is there anything I could do?"
"Oh, Jenna, there's—"
"I could clean your garage. No, your attic. I could clean your attic."
"Jenna—"
"I would love to do it, sir."
"Why not, Eric?" Annie asked. "It would be nice to have someone help out around the house."
"Hmm. Well, Jenna, are you sure you'd like to—"
"Of course, sir! It's the least I can do."
Ruthie didn't like the sound of this. Jenna had something planned. There were things in the attic. Ruthie was sure of it. She hadn't spent much time up there herself, but she was almost positive that there was concrete blackmail material up there.
"When would you like to do it, Jenna?"
"Oh, whenever's best for you, sir."
"How about next Saturday?"
Saturday, Ruthie thought. Saturday was several days away. Ruthie had time. Time to search through that mess and hide anything incriminating or damaging.
Ruthie nodded to herself. Jenna was smart. But not smart enough to outsmart Ruthie Camden.
"Next Saturday? Sure, sir. It'll be a privilege."
Eric smiled. Jenna was such a wonderful person. It was a good thing he saved her from the depths of homosexuality.
It was really late. Or really early. It depends on how you want to put it.
Three in the morning.
Ruthie was, and she didn't want to admit it, nervous.
Jenna was interesting. And not a good interesting. Usually, people left Ruthie alone after she tore them down a peg or two. But Jenna?
Jenna was fighting back.
Of course, Ruthie knew she could easily thwart any dastardly plot Jenna had planned. That didn't mean she wasn't unsettled about the whole situation.
By the middle of the week, Ruthie was up in the attic (to the knowledge of nobody), searching through boxes, putting all the possible dangerous material she could find.
Anything that could remotely harm the Camdens was put inside a special folder Ruthie brought with her.
It took her two hours, but Ruthie had successfully hidden all the damaging Camdocuments and put them away in her special folder. And then, just for extra security, she hid the folder in a shoebox and then hid the shoebox under a loose floorboard in her room.
Once the danger of Jenna passed, Ruthie planned to put the papers back where she found them. Besides, nobody would notice that they were gone anyway.
Ruthie was several steps ahead of Jenna and she knew it.
She left no stone upturned in that attic. There was no way Jenna would find anything up there.
Or so she thought.
Days passed and the rivalry between Jenna and Ruthie was slightly dormant.
There was rest until Saturday. Everything was waiting for Saturday.
And when Saturday came, both Jenna and Ruthie were ready.
Jenna arrived at the Camden home at two in the afternoon. After the obligatory 'hello's and 'good afternoon's, Jenna walked upstairs into the attic.
Ruthie watched her intensely.
Deep down inside, Ruthie knew it was awfully stupid of her parents to let Jenna clean the attic in the first place. Eric and Annie didn't know Jenna that well. How could they let her into their house unsupervised?
Then again. They had a reputation for doing this.
Ruthie slapped mayo on a piece of bread and sat down with the Bible.
It was a good read for a lazy Saturday afternoon.
Meanwhile, in the attic, Jenna Livingston angrily searched through the boxes and folders, unable to find much of what she wanted.
That is... until she found It.
Not the clown from the horror movie.
This was a different kind of It. Capitalized to emphasize its importance.
It was in a taped shut folder that Jenna had rudely ripped open. Inside were several papers, some yellow, some yellowed, obviously several years old. Among the papers was the biggest document Jenna could have possibly found.
This was a lucky find. A very lucky find. A-Derek-Fisher-four-tenths-of-a-second-game-winning-shot kind of lucky. A Vlade-Divac-tips-the-ball-out-to-Robert-Horry-for-the-game-winning-three kind of lucky.
(A/N: Ahh. Damn the Lakers.)
Jenna was thrilled.
It was so scandalous, so shocking, so unexpected... Not only would Ruthie be shocked, but half of Glenoak as well.
It would tear her apart. Jenna was sure of that. (And if it didn't, then Ruthie was a very different kind of animal, not to be messed with.)
But Jenna was fine with that.
She wanted that.
Jenna pocketed the entire folder, trembling with an immoral joy, wondering to herself exactly in what fashion she could use her newfound knowledge.
Jenna wanted this news to be plastered all over the city. The town. The state. Jenna wanted the world to know, wanted every single human being to have their own personal copy of It.
She cackled with excitement. Shook with anticipation. Quickly, she 'tidied up' the rest of the attic. She had what she needed and she wanted to leave as soon as possible.