Ron's Worst Nightmares
Photo Album
By Pat Squared
Now it was far too late to end it all.
Thanks to the miracle of ultrasound, Kim knew that the life growing inside of her womb was no longer an It, but a little girl.
The doctors and her mom told her that the morning sickness would stop, that the mood swings will stabilize, but every morning things seem to get worse. Kim spent the past hour praying to the porcelain goddess for the remaining five months to hurry up.
Kim knew that she was driving her family away. Her father started working extra hours, supposedly to pay for the conversion of the attic into a nursery for the new baby. The Tweebs were taking their experiments and Rufus elsewhere to avoid her fickle wrath.
The only presence that did not pull the disappearing act in Kim's life seemed to be her mother. However, her mother was the acting Dean of the Middleton University Medical School and had other demands upon her time. Kim's mom could not stay by Kim's side twenty-four/seven.
Kim was now alone in a big empty house, trapped with nothing to distract her from her inner demons.
Video games ... Ron was the one who played them. All the save game slots had his name on them.
Television ... it was either the riots in France, or worse, the new war in Sudan that killed Ron.
Books ... Outside of medical textbooks, school work, or technical manuals, the family were not heavy readers. Ron had a personal library that was six times bigger than her entire family.
Rufus ... Rufus was still mourning the death of Ron. Kim could not face the pink naked mole rat without breaking into tears. Besides the Tweebs were using him as their number one test pilot, today.
Kim was perversely too tired and yet too wired to fall asleep.
On the bookshelves were a collection of the Possible-family photo albums. Kim was careful to only get the one that predated him.
It was a mistake.
Although there were no pictures of a certain blond-haired, money-phobic, boy, there was an indirect reminder of him. The photos were all Pre-Ron, Pre-Tweebs. Many of the photos were of Kim and her father.
Her father holding her in the hospital.
Her father trying to put the baby food in her mouth and the big mess that he made.
Her father trying to pinch his nose with one hand as he was changing her diapers with the other hand.
Her father holding her hands as she tried to take her first steps.
Her father presenting her with her first set of wheels, a tricycle.
Her father holding her hands around the big, red plastic bat showing her how to play tee-ball.
These would be the photo that her daughter will never have in her photo album. While the other girls would have a daddy to be there for ballet and piano recitals, Kim's daughter would grow up knowing her father only as a series of photographs and newspaper clippings.
You killed him Kim.
Kim hated being alone. There was a voice in her mind that she wanted to deny. It was the voice that questioned the Capital-T Truth that she had carefully erected to protect her dignity, her sense of self.
It had to be Ron's fault!
The drink, the loss of her virtue, the daughter growing inside of her – It all had to be his fault.
The great Kim Possible was not some drunken slut who spread her legs after three of four little shots of black currant vodka. If Kim was not a slut, then she had to be a victim. Therefore Ron had to rape her, otherwise Kim Possible, the perfect girl, would be no better then the village bicycle, the one that everyone had ridden.
You made Ron your whipping boy since you first met. This time, you chased him away to die alone. You could not even go to his memorial service and face the fact that you sent him to die. Someone else might have pulled the trigger, but you set him on the path to the meat grinder.
Ron raped me! I was a virgin ... I wanted to save it for my husband. He took it. He took it when we were drunk.
However, deep down, Kim knew that it was all a lie. She gave it to him more than once that night.
She panicked that morning. She wanted to deny what happened, but the pain, the blood, and the semen were proof positive that she had spent the night in drunken debauchery with her best friend. Kim was not some wild party floozy who banged an entire rock band or football team. Kim was Kim and Ron was ...
Ron was her sidekick, a peon in a subservient position. She was the boss. She was Team Possible. She should have never dated him. He was not even mid lunch table. Eric was perfect if only he was not a synthdrone.
Ron never fought back. He couldn't fight her. His life was about her.
What do you know about him?
Everything, she whispered to the voice inside her mind.
Nothing, the Truth whispered back, Nothing that did not involve you in some way.
Do you know his favorite color?
Do you know why he has fits and whimpers in his sleep?
Do you know what he sees and feels when he has nightmares?
Do you know his dreams, his hopes, his reason for sticking on despite being dumped upon by fate and more importantly by you?
Do you know why he left his parents' house the moment he turned eighteen?
Do you know why he just sometime stares off into space?
Do you even remember his birthday?
When was the last time you bought him a gift. No. You just have Wade just send him another videogame from Japan on his birthday and Christmas. You don't ever remember what you got him last Christmas.
"It's not like that..." Kim muttered.
Go ahead, feel free to whisper me another lie, Kim.
Kim couldn't ...
The Truth hurts, the voice whispered, Ron was there for you and you discarded him like a used condom the moment things became inconvenient because you could not handle your liquor.
Look at the photo album Kim.
Look at all the times your dad helped you.
Look at how your daddy supported you and taught you to believe in yourself.
Look at everything he did, everything he sacrificed just for you.
Because of you, your daughter would have any of these things
She won't have someone to help her walk tall.
She won't have a daddy to put together her tricycle.
She won't have a daddy to show take photos of her first piano recital.
She won't have a daddy to show her how to pay catch.
She won't have a daddy to threaten her future boyfriends with a one-way trip to the nearest black hole.
"No!" Kim screamed. "My daughter does not need Ron. She is my daughter, not Ron's. I can do it all. I can breastfeed my own kid. I can change the diapers. I can teach her who to play catch and swing the bat. I am Possible and anything is possible for a Possible!"
Even self-delusion, I see.
Kim hated being alone.
If it was Bonnie making these snide remarks, Kim would bitch-slap that bitch into a coma.
However, it was the voice in her head. It was the voice that undercut Kim's Capital-T Truth. Kim's Capital-T Truth could not hold up to the voice questioning everything.
Kim just sat there in tears as the comfortable illusions were being stripped away by the truth she wanted to deny.
She killed Ron.
She broke his spirit and set him on the path to his death.
It was not a death. He died that morning. He died the moment she said, "I hate you!" The only thing that happened in Sudan was the fact that fate reunited Ron's body with his spirit.
If Ron was here, he would be trying to tell me that it was all his fault. He would be trying to tell me to lay the blame on him. He would...
However, Ron was dead. His body was blown to bits and whatever was left of him went to feed the vultures. Kim Possible would have to one day confessed to her daughter that she was responsible for the death her daughter's father.
Kim curled up in her bed.
She could make anything her Capital-T Truth to be shared with the world at large, but she could no longer lie to herself anymore.
It was like that Halloween, the time she accidentally got stuck in the armor that responded to the surge in her adrenaline every time she lied. However, the price of the lie was not a mere grounding, but the destruction of her best friend and the future of her child.