Guest: Maybe. I think almost everyone wants a clean and neatly wrapped ending. I know as reader I do, but sometimes, the story is better, and hits harder, when the ending isn't so happy or definite. What I tried to do with The 'Cest Kids was bring the family and the individual characters so low that by the time the end came, it was more of a relief than anything. I always thought that the ending I used was one of the better possible ones.
Today was a bad day, but weren't most of them? Mondays were good, Wednesdays were good, and Fridays were good. The other days? Not so much. Today, Tuesday, she woke to the shrill cry of the alarm, her red, tired eyes creaking open and her mind swirling with faint but insistent thoughts - dark thoughts, nagging thoughts, thoughts that were easy to ignore and recognize for the lies of a sick mind...for now. She sat up, reached for the pill bottle on the nightstand, and twisted the cap off. From the corner of her eye, she saw Liby sitting on the end of her bed, her hands folded in her lap and her head bowed: She wouldn't leave the room without Lyra because she was still afraid Lemy would try to hurt her. When Lyra wasn't around, she stayed close to Liena or Lacy. When she encountered Lemy or even saw him, like at dinner, the color drained from her face and she shook like a leaf. Lyra felt so awful…
She's plotting.
The voice was faint, like the rustle of leaves in a light breeze. Lyra's fingers curled around the bottle and her heart began to race.
Planning.
No, she's not, shut up. She shook a tiny white tablet into her hand, tossed it into her mouth, and chewed it slowly, her face screwing up at the bitter taste. Chewing it gets it to your bloodstream faster, she'd read, and she needed it quick.
You're playing with fire, she thought as she returned the cap to the bottle and sat it on the nightstand. This is how it always starts.
Yeah, well, not this time; she was only going to skip every other day...and it was not going to eventually turn into everyday like it did in the past.
She swung her long, shapely legs out from under the covers and stood, her purple polished toes instinctively digging into the carpet. She stretched and yawned deeply, then crossed to the door. Liby jumped up and scurried after her, terrified of being left behind.
SHE'S COMING TO GET YOU!
Lyra's heart slammed and the back of her neck tingled as if in anticipation of a blow...even though she knew Liby wasn't going to hurt her. She took a deep breath and shoved those thoughts away. Think of something else, girl...like how long this line is. Two, four, six...eight. Ugh, and I have to pee! She fell gamely in behind Lizy, crossed her arms, and cocked her hip, her head flopping back and her eyes closing. She was starting to feel groggy already; psychosomatic, she figured, as the pill hadn't had enough time to hit her system yet. Dread gathered in her stomach like black storm clouds, and she moaned in the back of her throat. She really, really didn't want to deal with this.
Tears filled her eyes, but she held them back. Happy thoughts, Lye, happy thoughts. After school she and her girls were going to have a jam sesh, and sleepy or not, those were always fun. Oh, and it was Tuesday, which meant tacos; the school cafeteria botched literally every dish but tacos. Somehow, their tacos were bomb. What else, what else? Ummm...it wasn't raining.
Ahead, the bathroom door opened and Dad came out in a puff of white steam, his bare chest slick and a towel wrapped around his waist. His face was dark, his expression grim and hard. Lyra glanced away as he passed; since the day he beat Lacy across the back with his belt, she could barely stand to be in the same room with him. She wasn't really angry as much as she was...disturbed. She loved him, but honestly, he scared her.
The line moved as Lemy went in. Lyra squeezed her thighs together and tried to ignore her bursting bladder.
Doing it...purpose.
The voice was quieter now, barely above a mumble. A shiver went down Lyra's spine and she drew a deep breath. "They…" she started, but snapped her mouth closed, her heart palpitating sickly. No one seemed to notice, and she sighed in relief; the moment she started talking to herself, her mother would be on her like cool on Bon Scott. You're skipping your meds? Come on, dude, you know that's bogus.
When her turn finally came, she went in, and Liby hurried after. What, I can't even pee alone now? She started to snap, but stopped herself. It was sometimes hard to keep in mind that Liby was basically a five-year-old. Shaking her head, Lyra crossed to the toilet, hiked up her nightgown, and sat while Liby stood by the door, her eyes glued to the tops of her shoes. Lyra planted her elbows in her thighs and rested her face in her hands. "Lemy isn't going to hurt you, Lib, I promise."
Liby tensed at the mention of her brother's name.
Lyra pushed, and her stream sprayed out of her, the sensation making her eyelids flutter. She didn't care what anyone said, a good morning pee was better than sex. "He thought you wanted to have sex, he didn't know you don't like it, but I talked to him. He said he wouldn't bother you again."
The younger girl made no reply...showed no sign that she had even heard. Lyra sighed, grabbed a wad of toilet paper, and leaned forward. "Seriously, you have to stop being so scared of him." She wiped, flushed, and got to her feet. While she washed her hands, Liby took her place on the commode. Done, Lyra crossed her arms, leaned against the wall, and waited for her sister to finish. Her eyelids were getting heavy and her mind was starting to muddle. Ugh. Why couldn't they give her something that didn't knock her out? What was the reasoning behind this crap? Can't be a schizophrenic when you're in a coma. Yeah, sure, great logic there, Big Pharma, what else you got? Cyanide for cancer patients? Bullets for the elderly? Miracle drugs, I tell you.
After Liby was done, they went back into their room, Liby sitting on the edge of her bed and Lyra crossing to the closet. She scanned the contents before selecting a white tank top and a purple jacket. She went to her dresser, took out a skirt and a pair of panties, and hurriedly dressed. "Come on," she said to Liby as she went into the hall. Liby launched off the bed and followed.
In the kitchen, she made herself and Liby a bowl of cereal, then carried them into the dining room, where her siblings were eating in silence. Sometimes it really bothered Lyra that they didn't talk and laugh together like the families on TV; instead they were lost in their own little worlds, islands unto themselves. She sat next to Liena, who was feeding Loan bits of oatmeal; Loan was strapped into her chair and rocking back and forth like a delighted baby.
"That's good, huh?" Liena cooed as she dipped the spoon in the bowl. She was smiling and her face glowed with radiant happiness. Okay, not all of her siblings were islands in the stream...Liena genuinely liked helping and spending time with her brother and sisters, Lizy and Loan especially. A few weeks ago, Liena confided in Lyra that she was "a teensy, weensy, itty, bitty bit" jealous of Lacy. I want a baby too, she pouted and crossed her arms. I'd make a great mommy.
Lyra didn't doubt that, Liena had alway been good with her younger siblings. She could be ditzy and dumb like her mother, but when it came to children, she was loving, attentive, focused, and responsible. If Lyra had her own children, she would trust Liena with them...totally and faithfully.
"You ready for more?" Liena asked.
Loan gurgled in the back of her throat.
"I'll take that as a yesssss," Liena said in a singsong voice.
Lyra turned away and glanced at Lacy, who sat between Lizy and Lemy and ate from an oversized Tupperware container overflowing with three different kinds of cereal. She wore a # 2 jersey three times bigger than her normal ones to conceal her stomach, which was steadily expanding. Shortly after they found out she was pregnant, Dad called them together and swore them to secrecy. No one outside of this house is to know. Ever. If you say anything...here he stripped off his belt and dropped it onto the coffee table, which made Lyra so cold she hugged herself. It was getting harder and harder to hide it, though; Lupa figured she was about about fifteen weeks, and in just a couple more, even the biggest, baggiest jersey in the world wouldn't be able to hide it.
What then?
What then?
Lacy and Lupa made their way to school at a leisurely pace, neither in a hurry: Because of Lupa's legs, they left earlier than they had to anyway, but with Lacy being pregnant now, they left even earlier. Don't wanna overdo it, Lacy told her once. That was her mindset these days: She dropped off all her teams, she didn't pester her siblings to play sports with her anymore, and she took it so easy she'd have to play hard to get to be a slut. She also ate right, as in broccoli and shit. She hated broccoli, but she pounded stalks down the way their faggot father pounded down beers. She winced, grimaced, and gagged the whole time, but she said It's good for the baby and that was that.
Presently, Lupa glanced at her sister; her hand rested on the swell of her stomach and she stared down at it with loving devotion, a soft smile playing at the corners of her mouth and a warm glow in her eyes. Lupa's lips threatened to twitch upwards, so she looked away. Lacy was really happy and looking forward to being a Mom and it was very hard to not be infected by her joy.
Like VD.
"Hey," Lacy said, looking up and squinting against the glare of the winter sun, "you think I should go with an 'L' name?"
"No," Lupa said instantly. This was a topic she had quietly pondered many, many times in the past. "Everyone having names that start with the same letter is cheesy and dumb. Do something original."
Lacy looked thoughtful for a second. "I don't think it's dumb."
Well...Lupa did; even though her family was nothing like that, she could clearly envision a 'same letter' family being dorky and wearing matching sweaters or something. Gross. Then again, her family would be a lot better off if it was dorky instead of severely dysfunctional. She'd be a lot better off...at least from the waist down.
She sighed. She suddenly didn't feel like talking. "I dunno. Do what you want."
Lacy hummed and stared straight ahead: Cars moved through a busy intersection and a group of elementary schoolers waited for the crosswalk sign to change from red to green. She saw pink Frozen backpacks, light up Sketchers, and superhero T-shirts...was that boy wearing Heelys? Lupa thought those went out of style fifty years ago. "I kind of like Rachel for a girl," Lacy said as they came to the curb. A little black boy about six turned and stared down at Lupa's crippled legs, his brow furrowed in confusion. Lupa shot him a dirty look that he didn't notice because he was too busy gaping. Little shit. I oughta slap you into traffic.
"And Cary for a boy," Lacy added.
Lupa spared her sister a sidelong glance; she bounced from one foot to the other in excitement. "That's a girl's name."
"Not it's not," Lacy said defensively. "There was that actor...Cary Graham or whatever. He was manly."
Actually, it was Cary Grant, but whatever. "It's still a girl's name. Call him Bill or George...anything but Cary."
She grinned at her sly classical reference. Of course, Lacy didn't get it, but no one ever got her, so it was okay. "I don't like those names. They're...like grandpa names."
Lupa could feel the little boy's gaze on her. She turned and he looked up at her. "What happened to your legs?" he asked inquisitively.
"Incest," Lupa said.
He looked confused. "What's that?"
Lupa shifted her crutches and leaned as close to his face as she could; he took a hesitant step backwards. "It's a monster," she said. "It hates women and black people."
He gulped.
"You better be careful, or you'll be next."
His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. She grinned in satisfaction and turned back to Lacy, who, she realized, had been talking this whole time. "...I could live with Alex or Tim. Mark, too.I just really like Cary."
Lupa sighed. "Whatever." That kid was going to have a bigger problems than being named Cary anyway. She clamped her bottom lip between her teeth and tried not to think any further, but images of Lacy holding a twisted monster to her breast came regardless, and hot color spread across the back of Lupa's neck. She thought back to the confrontation with her father several weeks ago, and she so bitterly regretted not clawing his eyes out that her stomach knotted.
She hated that man.
The light changed, and she and Lacy crossed. Lacy rubbed her stomach and stared at it. When she first found out, she was scared and unhappy, but the more her baby grew, the more excited she became; at night she dreamed of holding it and cooing to it, and during the day, her hand fluttered to her bump without her even realizing it. Last week, she felt it move for the first time, a very faint flutter like the fleeting kiss of butterfly wings, and she responded by laughing, crying, and calling for her father. He came in bleary-eyed and unshaven, and stared down at his feet as he listened to her prattle. It was a strange feeling...an amazing feeling...and every time she felt it she giggled like a little girl.
She couldn't wait to hold it, and kiss its nose, its forehead, its fingers, its toes, and everything else; she would drown her little boy or girl in kisses and affection, her beautiful baby, the physical embodiment of her love for her Daddy.
Once, she thought sports was her future, but now she could see clearly, and she recognized that it was not. Bearing her father's children was. And as soon as she could, she would run away with him and let him get her pregnant again...and again...and again. They would have a little house somewhere and they would fill it with babies, babies...and love.
By the time they got to school, she was bouncing and humming happily, her ponytail swishing across the back of her neck and her eyes shining with radiance. At her locker, she put in the combination, opened the door, and rummaged around for her history book. Lupa might think it was a girl's name, but she really liked Cary. It was unique; you don't meet one of those every day like you do a Joe or a Bob. She also liked Mark, though; it was far more common, but nice nonetheless. Rachel was good, but she also liked Faith, and Olivia too.
So many names, so little time. Uh, and baby. What about Olivia Faith? Ooooh, that was pretty. Olivia Faith Loud. Yeah, that sounded nice. Cary Mark Loud. Hmmm, that didn't sound quite as nice, but it was good enough.
As she made her way to class through the crowded hall, she sighed in contentment. No need to rush, Lace, you have plenty of time to come up with a name...
Liena Loud clasped her hands in front of her and looked around at the scenery, her head bobbing side to side and her eyes darting here, there, and everywhere. Ohh, that tree is pretty; that house looks super cozy; wow, what a cute doggie, it's, like, got floppy ears. Flop, flop, flop. She really wanted to go pet it, but it was in its yard with no adults around, and Lienas aren't allowed to go into other people's yards without permission. She learned that lesson the hard way when she was twelve; she went into her neighbor's yard to get a Frisbee and he yelled at her very meanly. He said she was, like...a blonde bimbo or something. She didn't know what a bimbo was, but it made her sad and she ran away crying. She didn't like being yelled at, so she vowed to never go into someone's yard ever again unless they said she could.
She sighed and glanced over at Lyra; she had a pair of headphones over her ears, loud, crashing rock music drifting to Liena's ears and making her frown. It sounded like mad music. She squinted and leaned in to hear the lyrics.
Hey
You're a crazy bitch
But you fuck so good, I'm on top of it
When I dream, I'm doing you all night
Scratches all down my back to keep me right on
Her cheeks turned pink and she drew away with a elfin grin. She liked sex songs. She liked sex in general. Like, a lot. In fact, she was kind of in the middle of a sex problem: She wasn't having any and it was making her really, really sad. Usually she did it with Dad, but he was really busy having sex with Lacy and Leia, and to be honest, after he beat Lacy up that one time, she kind of wasn't horny for him anymore. That left Lemy, and over the past three weeks they had sex four times, which was only enough to take the edge off. She loved her little brother with all her heart, but he just wasn't any good; he came waaaay too soon. He could get her off with his fingers, but that's, like, eating chips when you want a hamburger.
She drew a deep sigh and looked around in an attempt to get her mind off the way her special place boiled, and the way her flesh burned. That car looks fast. Liena liked fast. And slow too. She liked being treated like a princess...and then like a whore. She liked…
Not thinking about this.
She tilted closer to Lyra.
Get the video
fuck you so good
Get the video
fuck you so good
Crazy bitch
Crazy bitch
Crazy...bitch
Ummm, she could use a good…
...Ugh.
And, like, the thing was, now she didn't just want sex, she wanted sex that would get her pregnant like Lacy. Lacy was going to be a mommy and Liena wanted to be a mommy too; she loved babies and if she had her own she'd be really happy. She didn't think Lemy's boy stuff worked because he finished in her all the time and she never got pregnant. Or, gasp, maybe her girl stuff didn't work. Dad finished in her all the time too and still, nothing.
Her chest tightened and her hand fluttered to her throat; breathing was suddenly hard and she felt like she was going to have a panic attack or something. She really hoped her girl stuff worked because if it didn't she would never be a mommy, only an auntie, and she didn't want to be just an auntie.
A dark ripple went through her stomach.
Maybe it wasn't that, maybe her eggs, like, didn't want Dad or Lemy's babies. Maybe she needed to try having a baby with someone else.
They were at a busy intersection now, the ped walk sign flashing a red stoppy hand and not a white go-y person, which meant you couldn't cross yet. She clutched the front of her overalls and looked around for a man; she saw gangs of kids walking toward the middle school, an old woman shuffling along like a witch in a scary story, and a fat woman carrying a paper bag of groceries. Of course, Liena thought sourly, when you need one they're not around, just like cops or something. She crossed her arms and pinched her brow. She had to find one before she got to school, because you aren't allowed to have sex in school.
The light changed, and she and Lyra crossed. They were in downtown now, the sidewalk flanked by quaint storefronts and dotted with barren trees. School was just around the corner, and if she got there before she found a man she would never be a mommy. Her step faltered and Lyra pulled ahead, disappearing around the edge of a building. What should she do? She couldn't skip, her parents and teachers would be mad at her. She could maybe be a little late, but even that was pushing it. She sighed. I guess I'll just, like, be an old spinster or something. She started walking again and turned the corner, coming face to face with a boy on a bike...a very fast bike. Her heart jumped into her throat and she uttered a sharp cry. The boy's face when white and he yanked the handlebars to the left, slamming into the side of the building and falling off with a scream. He landed hard on his elbows and his features twisted in agony. The bike was on its side now, the front tire crumpled from the impact and the back spinning hypnotically. For a moment Liena was rooted in place, her entire body trembling, then his moans of pain reached her and she shook her head.
"Oh, are you alright?" she asked worriedly. She went to him and dropped to one knee.
His eyes were squeezed shut and his teeth were bared. "That hurt," he managed.
Liena's stomach dropped. Oh, no, she hurt someone. She didn't like hurting people, she wanted to be nice and caring, not, like, a monster or something. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I just wasn't watching where I was going because I was thinking about...things...and I'm really sorry."
"It's fine," he said, "I'm okay." He sat up and winced. Liena rocked back on her knees and forced a sheepish smile when he glanced at her; his eyes were pale green and his sandy brown hair was wavy like a field of grain. His narrow cheeks were smattered with acne and faint peach fuzz covered his upper lip.
He was kind of cute.
Hissing over his teeth, he got to his feet and checked the elbows of his red flannel shirt; they were ripped and torn.
Liena felt really bad; she knew how embarrassing it was to have rips in her clothes; it made her feel like a hobo or something. "I'm really sorry," she said again; she was on her knees still, her hands resting on the tops of her legs.
"You're fine," he said and turned to his bike, "it was my fa...oh, no." His shoulders slumped and he threw his head back. Liena looked at it; she wasn't the smartest person in the world, but she knew when something was completely totaled, and his bike was completely totaled. She turned her gaze to him, and found herself looking at his butt; the seat of his jeans stretched across them like a second skin. Her core tingled and she licked her lips like a hungry animal.
Uh! Wait a minute...he was a boy! In all the excitement of nearly being turned into a Liena pancake, she had totally forgotten that she was trying to get pregnant.
"My dad's gonna kill me," the boy said and hung his head, the flat of his palm pressed mournfully to his forehead. Liena craned her neck to get a look at his crotch but couldn't.
"I'm really sorry," she repeated. Like, how could she get hm to put a baby in her? It's a pretty big step from 'I'm sorry I wrecked your bike' to 'harder, daddy, faster!'
Then it came to her. Duh! She broke his bike, now she had to pay him back. She didn't have money, but she did have a pussy.
Sighing, the boy nodded. "Look, it's fine, really, I'm sorry I almost hit you." He bent over, righted the bike, and looked it over. He tried to push it forward, but the mangled tire wouldn't turn, and he sighed.
Liena watched him for a moment, her eyes roaming over his back, then she got to her feet. "No, it's mine, I should, like, be more careful. I'll pay you back."
He rested the bike against the wall and knelt. "It's fine," he said absently as he tried to unbend the rim with his bare hands. Sigh. He wasn't picking up on her hints! Maybe they were too subtle. Well...she'd just have to be unsubtle. She got to her feet and went over. When her shadow fell across him, he twisted his head around and looked over his shoulder. She smiled and knelt down, her hand going to his shoulder and squeezing. His face crinkled in a cute expression of puzzlement. Liena leaned in until their nose were nearly touching; his breath puffed hotly against her lips, and a little shudder went down her spine. "Let me," she said, her head tilting, "pay you…" his eyes were wide and his jaw stood agape… "back." She molded her lips to his and flicked her tongue across his bottom lip; his sweet taste filled her mouth and her girlhood quivered.
Suddenly, he pulled back and fell onto his butt, his face a drawn mask of horror. Liena giggled. "Come on. There's a bush over there, we can go in and…" she trailed off and scooted closer, a mad grin touching her lips… "do things to each other."
The boy's head jerked from side-to-side. "N-N-No, that's o-o-okay, I'm, you're, I mean, it's fine, really, don't worry about it."
"But I like doing those things." She reached out, and the boy jumped to his feet. Liena frowned. What was wrong with him? She got up, and to her unending surprise, he started to power walk away.
Liena's jaw dropped...then snapped closed as her chances of becoming a mommy fled down the sidewalk. "Hey!" she said, and he threw a frightened glance over his shoulder. His dumb expression made her even madder. Didn't he realize that, like, her biological clock was ticking and stuff? "Come back here!"
He turned away and increased his speed.
Oh, no you don't. Liena started after him, her fists clenching. "Stop! Come back here and get me pregnant!"
At the word pregnant, he broke and ran like being a daddy was the worst thing in the world. He darted into traffic, and a car missed him by mere inches. Liena ran to the curb, her face red and her teeth grinding painfully. "Come back here! Put your baby in me!" He reached the other side and pounded down the sidewalk. Liena started across, but stopped: The stoppy hand was on, which meant she couldn't go. Ugh. Her one weakness.
Powerless to do anything else, she shook her fist and screamed. "COME BACK AND SHOOT YOUR BOY STUFF IN ME! I WANNA BE A MOMMY, GODDAMN IT!" Blocks away, he turned a corner and disappeared. Liena huffed and whipped around. Stupid boy, she was glad his bike was broken. She…
...realized everyone was staring at her; the butcher standing in front of his door, a broom in his hand; an old woman in glasses; the mailman; a woman holding a little girl's hand; a construction worker in an orange vest and a white hard hat; a woman in blue scrubs. Humph. "I guess I'll never be a mommy," Liena spat at them. Walking at an angry trot, she started toward school, tears welling in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks.
She just wanted to have a baby.
Was that too much to ask?
Lizy sat alone in her room, her knees drawn to her chest and her arms wrapped around. She wore a long sleeve purple shirt under her normal black T to hide the cuts on her white flesh and a pair of pants to conceal the jagged wounds on her inner thighs. Her eyes were downcast and filled with tears, her lips were turned down in a sad frown, and her chest heaved up and down as she fought to keep from breaking down. She hugged herself tighter and hid her face from the world, her ugly, stupid, horrible face.
Leia was right; she was disgusting and worthless and her eye was gross. No one loved her and everyone thought she was a monster. Her mom never spent time with her, her dad never spent time with her...the only ones who spent time with her were Lyra and Liena, and they did it out of pity, just like Leia said.
She sighed and her tears began to fall, hot like acid against her cheeks. Why did she have to be so dumb and ugly? Why did she have to be a cyclops with frog fingers? WHY COULDN'T SHE BE NORMAL LIKE LEIA?
Flashing, she balled her fist and smashed herself in the temple. Pain filled her skull, but that didn't stop her; she did it again, and again, and again. Why are you so repulsive? Why are you such a freak?
Her head throbbed and her knuckles were covered in abrasions, but she didn't care. Her body was already disgusting, what more could she do to it? How can you disfigure what is already disfigured? How could she be any more hideous than she already was?
The answer: She couldn't.
She wiped tears away from her eyes and sniffed.
She was disgusting.
She was worthless.
Do us a favor and die, Leia said again and again, and Lizy tried, she really did; she took a knife from the kitchen last week and every night since as she laid in bed, she held the point against her heart, trying to summon the courage to sink it in but failing. Instead, she attacked her arms, and her legs, even her feet, carving her hated flesh, piercing her revolting body, bleeding herself as though she could purify herself...as though she could make her nightly dreams reality and wake in the morning pretty and whole, with a regular hand and a regular eye.
She hated her eye, she hated it with a fierce intensity that made her dizzy. She could never have a normal one...she knew that...but she'd rather have no eye than this one.
Swallowing her tears, Lizy reached over, opened the nightstand drawer, and took out the knife, the blade glinting in the cold light of the sun. She held it up to her face and studied her reflection. One flick is all it would take, one quick movement, and her horrible eye would be gone forever. She gripped the handle tightly, turned the knife until the tip was pointing at her face, then slowly, quiveringly, she brought it close...closer...her heart raced, her breathing quickened. The razor's edge filled the world, blotting out everything else. Nothing existed, nothing mattered, nothing but the task at hand.
The point was so close now it tickled her eyelashes. The back of her neck prickled.
You're ugly...you're worthless...your eye is disgusting and everyone is sick of it looking at it.
Her hand froze.
One jerk. That's all. One...tiny...flick...of the wrist.
But she couldn't.
She just couldn't.
Tears coursed down her cheeks in hot rivulets.
You're a coward, a voice said from the center of her head. It sounded like Leia.
"No I'm not," Lizy croaked miserably.
Yes you are. You're gross and nasty and you're a chicken.
"No I'm not."
You're horrible. Cyclops. One Eye.
Lizy was weeping now.
You're a big, fat, ugly, one eye chicken.
"NO I'M NOT!"
She plunged the knife deep into her eye.
And screamed.