Maht' was waking up Billy and Eddie by yelling at me, “I am not a whore,
don’t call me a whore etc,etc,”
aaaaaaaaah the ole "don't call me a whore, said the whore" line.
*drags off well-earned cigarette.* Don't call her a whore. I remember it well.
Huh? What about? Hell if I know. I remember...her boyfriend wasn't there at the time. It had to be either on a weekend, or during the summer. For some reason the summer before I started seventh grade is sounding very real. It would make sense... Dareck was supposed to be getting ready for the 10th grade but because of some scientific hocus-pocus I wasn't yet aware of he was able to kinda sorta get out of going to junior high and high school. 'Cause it was so hard for him, you see.
Why, people at school threatened to steal his music tapes and wouldn't back down when he'd start fights with him! Oh, the transgressions. I on the other hand had learned to just hate myself and be done with it when I got made fun of for being such fucking weirdo...dirty clothes, sociable but awkward, for some reason not a retard like the kids in my classes later told me they thought I was but unusually smarter than most of them. So...squeaky, bitchy wheel gets the grease and whatnot.
How does that mean I was alone with her? Hmm. Well, this could have been when he was visitiing his girlfriend all the time in Yucaipa for days weeks at a time, but before my middle brother and his girlfriend would have me over for the weekends to hang out with them.
Thank you public school system that did not assign huge ass difficult and complicated books to read over the summer. Was sitting home all day. with Her.
And her just...being herself, and me just...being what she was telling me to be, she was getting on my...haha...getting on my nerves. No. I was going to have an ulcer having to deal with her anymore than I was. Yelling, screaming, being a vindicitive bitch. I don't remember what over, would probably be embarassed if I knew. Dishes weren't done to her liking, or I thought there were so little so as to not need doing right then...shit, it could have been her habit of reading newspaper articles out loud before I got to read them myself. I hated hearing her voice, and her ironically mimicing the logic and sense of Sowell or E. Williams' columns, or really anything interesting...it wasn't as if I didn't read the same articles myself. Perhaps it was related to her stupid yippie dogs. I either didn't show them any affection, didn't walk them outside enough, or that they came to me too much instead of her.
Early in the day, when we were both human, she told me about how her mom was so mean to her.
stop laughing.
*another drag*
So yeah...her mom was so mean to her and called her a whore. Oh that was so mean because it wasn't true and it really wasn't true and she still said it, and I never was one.
By the end of the afternoon...
I hated earthquakes as a kid. Maaaaaaaan I hated them. They scared me. Like...EARF FALLING. No good. Terrifying. The idea that "our" situation would just get suddenly worse...not only were we poor and living like we were but now there were no more roads...oh mah God. Bad news. Every night for years after the Northridge in...94? yeah I would pray to a God I didn't know specifically that there wouldn't be another huge earthquake in the middle of the night.
But right then a huge good ole' California falling into the ocean type of one would have been a Godsend. We'd already gotten to the point where she was pushing me into my side of the room, telling me idunno what. I was a few feet away from her, trying to stop crying. She started to yell at me about how I was "acting like a whore" and she "never would have acted like that to my mom."
Oh! Oh! Oh! I didn't know who John Calvin was, but right then I saw proof of free will. And I took it.
*sniff* "yeah well then why did your mom call you a whore?!"
Right before she lunged at me, before I felt my shoulder and head hitting the wall and my scalp subject to her waving grip, I saw her eyes. She was hurt.
Good. Finally.
*stomps out cigarette*
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