Chapter 22:
A/N: This is a verrrry busy chapter, with so much shouting and arguments so prepare aha! Also, if you haven't already, remember to check out RatherOddRanger's fanfic 'Everything Changes - The Last Great Console War'. Which is a spin off of my trilogy. It's a really great read so go have a look:)
Wendy PoV
"So, were you planning on telling me that you were still alive?" Stan bursts through the front door, it was lucky that my parents were out.
"Can you not shout please?" I ask, closing the door behind him.
"You haven't been at school for two weeks." He tells me, as if I wasn't aware. "You won't answer any of my calls."
"Well I'm surprised it took you this long to bother coming round." I raise my voice. "What did it take to drag you out of your room this time?"
"You." He says softly and I just look down at the floor. "What is going on Wendy? Are you sick? You don't look it. Has someone died?"
"No." I mutter, avoiding eye contact again. I had been very much like him over the past few weeks; lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Except I had an excuse. I had made an appointment with the doctor but as soon as I arrived at the surgery, I had freaked out and gone home. I was turning into Bebe; denying everything, pretending it wasn't there. Which was the worst possible thing to do, because the sooner I got this lump checked out, the safer I would be. "I'm just..."
"Just what?" He persists. "Wendy, you were fine, you were the most sane out of all of us. You don't have to worry about exams, you weren't involved in the crash-"
"Oh well sorry Stan." I snap at him. "Sorry I missed the event of the century."
"That's not funny." He whispers. "You know we went to hell and back that night."
"OH YEAH POOR YOU!" I yell and he looks taken aback. "POOR BEBE AND POOR KENNY, AS LONG AS YOU THREE ARE ALRIGHT, NO ONE ELSE MATTERS HUH?"
"OF COURSE THEY DO." He bellows. "I'M JUST SAYING THAT I CAN'T THINK OF A REASON WHY YOU HAVE SUDDENLY GONE OFF ON ONE."
We stand in silence for a second, both seething in the quietness of the empty house. I turn my back on him and walk into the kitchen, pulling a bottle of water out of the fridge.
"Is it me?" He tries again, much quieter.
"Not everything is about you Stan." I tell him, still quite viciously.
"Well then, talk to me." He softens, putting his hand on my shoulder. I feel the warmth emanating from his palm, seeping through my flesh, heating my bones. "I'm trying to get through to you." I close my eyes for a few seconds and then sigh, fighting back the tears. I put my hand on his and squeeze it gently.
"Well don't." I just whisper and then walk off up the stairs.
I am sat in my room for about five minutes before the door creaks open again. He's standing there, completely clueless, face still bruised, eyes dark and saddened.
"I'm not giving up on you." He finally mumbles, not moving a step closer in the fear that I will flip out again.
"That's funny." I mutter, and then I start laughing. I didn't know why, because it wasn't funny in the slightest. None of this was funny. "You're saying this now? But you failed to sort it out before."
"What do you mean 'before'?" He questions, exasperatedly. "I thought we were fine."
"No Stan." I confirm. "We're not fine. We haven't been fine for ages. You make no effort at all."
"I MAKE NO EFFORT?" He shouts again, picking up a framed picture of us from my side table and throwing it at the wall, angrily. "MOVIE TRIPS? BUYING YOU PRESENTS? WHAT ABOUT LAST VALENTINES DAY?"
"...Ok." I sigh, holding my hands up. Now I thought about it, he did try hard some thing's. "That was harsh of me, sorry."
"...Is this because of Craig?" He finally inquires, quietly. I raise my head to look at him, hoping he would crack a smile and say he was joking. But he looked deadly serious. "It is, isn't it?"
"Stan, what the fuck are you on about?" I squeak, my throat suddenly dry.
"Oh come on Wendy." It was his turn to laugh now. "The late night 'rehearsals', smiling at him in the corridor, sitting with him at lunch."
"At lunch?" I scoff. "I did that once and that was because, once again, you had football practice. You know, I'm surprised you haven't married the fucking football by now."
"Oh yeah, that's great, throw in some childish jokes." He spits. "Very mature."
"Stan." I stop him. "There is nothing between Craig and me, we're friends, he has a boyfriend, I have a boyfriend... Or, I thought I did..."
"What's that supposed to mean?" He asks, his voice quivering slightly.
"I just..." I mumble, tears welling up in my eyes again. "I just don't want you to get hurt."
"...Is that your way of saying we are over?" He swallows. "Look at me Wendy."
I raise my head slowly as my eyes meet his. "I don't want to drag you down..." I tell him, not wanting to give too much information as to why. "I don't know... Maybe, we should just take a break or something."
"A break?" He repeats, checking to see if I was serious. "...Right."
He hesitates before leaving, stopping to place a small black box on my side table, which he pulls out of his pocket. "Happy anniversary." He gives a slight smile and then walks out. I wait a minute before hearing the front door close. Our anniversary. Of course. I had forgotten all about it. I stand, shaking for a while, still staring at the empty doorway as tears roll down my cheeks. Part of me was hoping that he would appear at the door again, wrap me in a hug and tell me it would be ok. But he didn't, of course, because once again I had screwed it up.
It takes effort to walk over to my side table, my legs were like jelly. I pick up the box and open it carefully. Inside is a silver bracelet, with 'I love you' engraved into the winding pattern. He knew, he knew how long I had wanted a silver bracelet for. Back in fourth grade I used to fantasise about it. He told me that, when he had grown up, had a job and earned enough money, he would buy me one. Now he actually had. He had remembered.
My legs can't hold my weight then and I collapse against the table in a heap, crying my eyes out and clasping the bracelet in my palm. I had messed everything up, again.
Kenny PoV
"Karen, bring your gym kit downstairs and I'll stick it in the wash." I call up the stairs, by 'wash' I meant rinse in the sink with soap, as our washing machine hadn't been working for ages now. "Karen? Do you want it to be clean or not?"
"Kenny stop shouting." Mom yells from the couch, turning up the TV, which is crackling with the poor picture.
"Can you turn that thing off?" I ask her aggressively and she gives me the finger without turning to look at me. "KAREN?"
"KENNY SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I hear Kevin yell from upstairs and then the slamming of a door. He appears at the top of the battered staircase, a can of beer in one hand and a joint in the other. "All I can hear is you whining on."
"Oh right okay Kevin." I scoff. "How would you like to wash her gym kit then? Go on, considering our lazy ass mother can't be bothered... again."
"Get off my back." She moans.
"I've got to go out to work." He heads down the stairs, taking a drag of his joint. "Which is somewhere you don't have to go, because you got fired."
"AT LEAST MY JOB WAS LEGAL." I yell at him as he reaches the door.
"AT LEAST I EARN A WAGE." He laughs back in my face. "Oh and don't wait up for me, I'll be down at the strip club tonight with Neil."
"Oh shocker." I mutter when he bangs the door closed, causing one of the hinges to fall off. It had been pretty much broken anyway, but now it slopes against the wall, hanging there for a few seconds before completely giving in and falling face down on the carpet. "FOR FUCKS SAKE." I shout.
"KENNY SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Mom shrieks, spilling her can of beer all over the carpet.
"THE FUCKING DOOR HAS JUST BROKEN MOM." I tell her, as if she is blind. "WE HAVE NO FRONT DOOR NOW, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT THAT?"
"The lock didn't even work anyway." She shrugs. "Besides, there's nothing in here to steal."
"What? So we just leave the doorway wide open, all night?" I question, fiercely. "For people to walk in and out? Murderers, rapists?"
"Oh fuck you Kenny, like anyone's gonna want to rape me anyway." She waves me off.
"Dad did." I swallow hard and that is when she finally turns to look at me.
"You little shit." She grinds her teeth together, leaping off the couch to slap me round the face. I fall the the floor and smack my head off the rotting floorboards. "HOW DARE YOU THROW THAT IN MY FACE."
I glare at her and then slowly get up, as she stands shaking, fists clenched, as if wanting to throw a punch next time. I cautiously stumble away from her, heading towards the sink, where I run the water over a cloth. I turn to look at her once I have held it to my cheek, but she remains frozen, staring at the floor where I fell.
"I'm sorry Kenny." She mumbles. She's sorry? She's sorry? I pull open the cupboard doors and grab the bottle of vodka, gulping it straight from the bottle. I only stop drinking when she appears at my side, slamming a plastic cup down on the table as I reluctantly pour her several shots. My insides burn, I had just downed almost a third of a bottle. My head starts spinning and I feel free again. Free to do whatever I liked.
"You're a shit mother." I tell her. "You know that?"
"...Yes." She replies, bluntly, taking all of her shots in one.
"Dad is a shit dad." I add.
"I know." She nods as I pour her another dosage, taking a few more shots myself.
"You're both shit." I slur, as the alcohol begins to kick in, making my sight go fuzzy. The cloth falls out of my hand and on to the floor. I watch as it cascades down, water droplets flying from it when it hits the surface.
"...Do you wish I'd never given birth to you?" She asks, quietly.
"What, the first time you mean?" We both know what I was referring to and she nods, slowly. "...Yes." I confirm. "Because then none of this would of happened. I wouldn't be aware of it. I could have shut it out long ago... Because I can't now, can I? I can't get rid of it. Any normal person could just jump off a building. Overdose on pills, or heroine in your case. Maybe drown them self, hang them self, even burn them self... Not me." I glance at her sunken eyes, her body a complete mess. Shrunken and withered, her legs crippled from the very little weight she had to lug around. If she ever tried to move. Her red hair covered most of her face as she hung her head, but she still managed to stare at me. "I just keep coming back." I whisper.
"Kenny?" I suddenly hear Karen yell. Oh, so now she started paying attention. "They're outside again."
I snap my head round to look at the open doorway and mom does the same. I cover my face with my hand as I see them parking and walking up the path.
"Kenny?" I hear Karen again as she runs into the kitchen, her arms flying around my slumped body, barely holding myself up. "Don't let them take us, not again."
"Mrs McCormick?" A cop enters the room, holding up her police badge. She looks disgusted at the scene around us; broken doorway, mess everywhere, peeling wallpaper, wet floors and two drunken people in charge of a terrified little girl. "I'm DC Murray, South Park police."
"What the fuck do you want now?" I spit, which I know is the wrong thing to do, but I don't care.
"I'm afraid I have some bad news." She informs us. "Your husband, Stewart McCormick has died today as a result of drink-driving. I thought I would come and inform you-"
"What an idiot." I begin to laugh and she gives me a concerned look. "The fucking twat, how stupid is he?"
"I'm surprised he lasted this long." Mom begins to laugh too then.
"Yeah, what was the bad news?" I add and we both end up in hysterics, knocking the vodka bottle onto the floor, smashing, the remains of the substance spilling out around our feet. Karen looks incredibly confused, looking from me, to mom, to the police woman.
"...Can I ask, how much have you both had to drink?" She inquires.
"Is that your job?" Mom points at her, her finger shrivelled and quivering.
"Mrs McCormick, I have been on your back about child safety for the past sixteen years now." She tries to reason with her.
"Yeah and don't I fucking know it." Mom hisses, stumbling over to the broken refrigerator to pull out another can of beer.
"I don't think you should be drinking that-" The copper starts.
"And I don't think you should be meddling in our business." She spits back.
"Mrs McCormick, your husband has just died." She prompts.
"YOU'VE TOLD ME THAT YOU SKANK." Mom yells, throwing the can at her in anger as it hits her round the head and she falls to the floor. Wow, those floorboards had seen a bit of action today. Five or six members of the police instantly run in, two holding guns.
"This is a disgrace." One man observes the room, his eyes fixating on me.
"Mrs McCormick, I am arresting you on suspicion of child neglect and harming a police officer." One woman pipes up, also showing her badge. "You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention something that you may later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given as evidence. Do you understand?"
"Fucks sake, really?" I shout as they drag her away by her arms. I try to act as sober as possible as I stumble to the doorway. "Her husband has just died. Our father, has died!"
Karen begins to cry then, shaking as she clings onto me.
"You need to sober up sunshine." A man comes up to me. "Now, is there any other guardian staying in this house or do we need to contact social services?"
"NO!" Karen screams and instantly runs up the stairs.
"My brother Kevin is twenty." I tell him.
"Contact details?" He questions and offers me a notepad and pen to write down his cell phone number on. "Right, we'll be in touch."
"Kenny, I'm sorry!" I hear my mom yell as they push her into the police car. The words echo in my head over and over as everything starts to sink in. My dad was dead and my mom was going to jail. I watch as they drive off, car after car and my head begins to spin rapidly. Everything becomes blurred as the words crowd my mind. 'Kenny, I'm sorry'. 'Stewart McCormick has died today as a result of drink-driving'. 'Drink-driving'. 'Kenny, I'm sorry'. 'We are arresting you on suspicion of child neglect'. 'Died today as a result of drink-driving'. 'Kenny, I'm sorry'. 'I'm sorry'.
And with that, I pass out, the world disappearing into darkness.