Chapter 10: The Bitch is Back

I arrive at home an hour later. I take out the sketchbook Pip gave me and I start to draw. I draw ways- you'd be surprised at how many ways there are- to torch my hat. I explored the virtues of gasoline and the effects of simple gunpowder. After an hour or two, I look down at the results. In the center of the page, surrounded by sketches of burning hats, is a drawing of Pip. Ack! How did that get there? No! I snatch my pencil and go to scribble it out but... I can't... I just can't cross him out. I want him there. I start to detail the picture. Shade here, here, and here. All the while, Mara's words ring in my head. They won't stop! Dammit! No!

"'I guessed. Every time you look at him, I can tell, you love him. I feel the same way you do. Every time you look at him you blush. You can't help but feel that way. And Pip. He cares deeply for you. He came to your home, just to apologize. He took care of you in the library when you were almost raped.'"

She's heartless. Heartless. No way could anyone with feelings could say something like that. Please... someone knock. Knock. Take my mind off of the shit that is my life! I ceaselessly repeat it in my mind. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock! I slam my fist on the drawing. There's a knock at the door. Thank god. I jump up and look the peep hole. Sunder Lal? No! I lock the dead bolt and the chain lock. I run and dive into the cushions of the futon.

"Key!"

"Sunder Lal! Stop! You're scaring her! Kim! Ki- Ah! SUNDER LAL! PUT ME DOWN! OW!"

Pip? What are they doing here? Pip shrieks again. He's very pathetic isn't he? Then the hallway goes silent. Huh? There's a knock on the door. Another one. Quicker and more urgent.

"Hello! Please let me in! Your wife is here!"

Wife? This guy must not know us. But he's with my mother. And Pip won't let anything happen to his other 'Key'. I get up and walk to the door. I look through the peep hole. It's a stranger. Mother's arm is draped over his shoulder, her gaunt unconscious frame hanging limply. I unlock the door and let him in. He half drags half carries mother to the couch and carefully lies her down.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Kim... her daughter. And you?"

Pip, Padma, and Sunder Lal walk in.

"I'm Bill Hazarder. I'm a bartender at P.T.'s. Are you familiar with the bar?"

"Yes."

I look at my mother. She has a huge welt on her eye and has a slap mark across one of her cheeks. Another barroom brawl. I see Pip, out of the corner of my eye, twitch. I don't think his parents are like this.

"Another brawl."

He nods.

"Okay you can go. You aren't needed."

He looks at me like I'm a demon or something. His eyes go from surprise to scorn.

"I was just-!"

"Just helping? You've done enough, you can go now."

Bill quickly stomps out of the apartment, slamming the door loudly behind himself.

"Not kind, Kimmie."

"Why are you here, Paddy?"

She snaps. Sunder Lal steps forward. I step back. She snaps again.

"So-ri-bi-t-ch..."

"What?"

Sunder Lal nods. Padma chortles in an annoyingly high pitch.

"That's not kind Padma..."

Finally Pip enters the conversation. Sure took long enough.

"Well it's not proper to engage in fights then have to be carried home by a stranger, leaving yourself intoxi-!"

"Padma!"

Oh she's creative. Insulting my mother.

"Her name's Joanne. Use her name."

Pip looks at me-utterly confused.

"Why don't I care? I know you want to know. I hate her. Lots of kids say that about their parents. But they don't have any reason for it. I hate my mother. She's a disgusting example of a mother. She's a horrible woman. A terrible drunk. She doesn't know I exist nor does she care. The last time she acknowledged me was on the eve of Greg's death. She hasn't wished me happy birthday or talked to me as her daughter since I was five. I don't need her, I don't want her... yet, I am trapped inside this hell hole in which you stand. She's the reason I own eight shirts. She's the reason I have to beg to get a job because I'm under age. Greg died. Her life was buried with him... That's why."

Padma's eyes quickly well up with tears. She whips a handkerchief out of her sari.

"That's so sad!"

"Oh please. She brought it upon herself. I don't give a shit. So is that it?"

Pip averts his eyes from Padma.

"They, as an apology, wanted to take you to Wet'n'Wild. This Saturday. Can you come?"

Pip attempts puppy-dog eyes. Ah... Nope not feelin' 'em.

"I don't own a bating suit. I can't go. SO sorry."

Padma gasps. Wiping away numerous tears she says,

"We shop! I'll buy you a bathing costume!"

NO! Uh... right... I haven't bought an unnecessary thing of any sort in twelve years! I don't need it! It's a waste of the money! Excuse... need an excuse!

"Uh... I don't have the money... honestly."

"I'm rich!"

Ya got it, flaunt it. Pip's green eyes were now begging me. Dammit! Damn those terrible jade eyes to Hell!

"...Fine..."

What the hell am I supposed to do? Say no so that Padma sics her dog on me?

"Yay! Shopping trip!"

"I'm not spending a cent."

Pip smiles at me.

"Don't think you're not coming. You are."

His smile falls.

"Enough! Go home!"

I usher them out the door. Closing it in Padma's face makes me feel better.

Mother wakes up an hour later. I hear her groan and bitch.

"Fetch me water!"

"You have legs, stupid hag."

Mother pushes herself up onto her elbows. Emitting a moan that would crack a diamond.

"You dumb bitch! Get me water!"

I ignore her. She's not drunk anymore; otherwise she'd giggle when she called me 'bitch'.

"Water!"

"Shut up!"

Mother stops talking and huffily throws herself into the pillow of the futon. I look down at the sketch book. Lord help me.