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Emma's eyes stretch open as she rolls over to face her sister. Rubbing her lids to wake up, she notices that Kelly is in tears. Sitting up, Emma puts her arms around Kelly as her eyes begin to water at the loss of their loving mother. The last thing she expected to hear so early in the morning is that her mom was dead. Both of them had briefly discussed what they would do if this situation were to ever take place. Although they hoped that it would never happen, they are left to deal with the painful reality. Now they are faced with the hell of moving on so young without the woman who brought them into the world.
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Within moments, the police show up with the paramedics. After giving their statements to the police, the girls stand outside of Ophelia's former bedroom as the paramedics check her vitals and attempt giver her CPR. Kelly holds Emma close as they watch the display through blurred vision.
Knowing fully that the efforts of the EMT's are useless, they wish that they could just cut the red tape take her away.
Finally, the two EMT's load Ophelia's body on to a stretcher and cart her to the ambulance.
One of the EMT's looks at Kelly and says, "We have to get her to the ER and we'll most likely announce her as dead on arrival there of an acute cardiac arrest. A coroner will do autopsy and we'll give you the death certificate when it is ready. I'm sorry."
Holding back her tears, she gives the EMT a sullen nod.
She puts her arm around Emma for comfort while Emma stares at the floor in shock. Emma raises her eyes and watches them cart her mother out of the front door. Kelly holds Emma close and tells her, "Don't worry, Em… we're gonna get through this."
The two load up in Kelly’s car and follow behind the ambulance, sharing a heavy silence. Lighting two cigarettes, she passes one to Emma. While Kelly wonders how she is going to take care of the house and the bills without her mother, Emma stares at her scarred wrists. For the first time since she was twelve, she questions her maturity and what she will have to do to stand up on her own. With Ophelia gone, it is just the two of them now and they only have each other to rely on. As sad as Emma is, she is hit with the reality that she has to grow up and get a job. Her ride of youthful freedom is now over.
When they get to the hospital the girls are seated in the waiting area as Ophelia's body is taken to the back. Kelly and Emma sit in the waiting room for a half an hour before a doctor comes out to talk to them. Pulling them aside discreetly, the doctor tells them that their mother is dead. The 177
doctor looks at the two of them and softly asks, "How long as your mother been using heroin?"
Taken back, Kelly answers as Emma looks away, "I don't know…"
Shaking his head, the doctor replies, "She has track marks that you can run a train on… so I'm guessing she's been using for quite a few years."
Kelly and Emma look at one another before their eyes start to wander in separate directions out of a guilty embarrassment. The doctor pauses while he gauges their reactions to his statement. He can tell be their expressions that they knew their mother was an addict, but like in so many cases, they were helpless to do anything about it.
"I'm ruling her death as an overdose but there will be an autopsy and you'll get the death certificate within the next two weeks… I'm sorry for your loss."
Giving a sullen nod, the doctor walks away, leaving the girls to be alone in their grief. As bad as they feel, Kelly and Emma know that there was nothing they could do. Time and time again they tried to get their mother to seek help and kick her habit, but their efforts were useless. You can do everything in the world for a person with an addiction, however unless they are willing to help themselves you are traveling a dead end road. They have to be willing to get help because you cannot save anyone from themselves. Ophelia was content and denied that she had problem. To her, the issue was her being an on call prostitute for mostly married men.
Returning home, Kelly and Emma raid their mother's liquor and marijuana stash. They smoke her bud and drink her whiskey as they reminisce about her. High and drunk, they remember the good times that they had with their mother.
Intoxicated laughs hold back their anguish as they reflect on the joy that they had with Ophelia. Emma recalls her mother giving her hell at the age of ten for getting her new Easter dress caked with mud when she slipped out the back door of their old trailer home when they lived in Gibsonton. The 178
therapeutic laughs roll on as they intake the highs to cover the sadness that they feel.
As the hours press on, Kelly decides to retire for the evening, leaving Emma to smoke a cigarette on the back porch alone as she finishes her drink. After a kiss on the forehead, Kelly walks in and slides the back door closed behind her. Taking soft drags from her smoke, Emma wonders what she can do to help out around the house now financially. Thinking of the places that are hiring, she comes up with nothing. Due to the shape of the economy, even menial jobs are few and far between. Shaking her head at the thought, she tells herself that she should have taken that job at the book store when she had the opportunity.
Her eyes weigh heavy with her thoughts and then she takes on last drag and snuffs out the cigarette. Staggering back into the house, Emma walks into her mother's former room and lies down on the bed. She curls up into her blanket and takes in her scent as she rests her head on a pillow. Forming into a ball, she closes here eyes and remembers a better time when she was her mother's baby girl. Drifting away with a grin upon her lips, she sees herself cradled in her mother's arms as she sings lullabies to lure her asleep. In a drunken high, she falls into the sweet dreams of what used to be, finding comfort in the joys that have passed her by. At least tonight, she can hold on to her innocence for a few more hours.
Matt paces around his apartment in a strange fit. Nothing can keep him stable as his restless nerves tighten into rage.
He yearns to hold his power over someone and his calls to Emma's cell phone have simply gone to voicemail. Frustrated, he stares at himself in his mirror and is horrified by his longing gaze. Disgusted with his yearning, he punches the glass and shatters the reflective door to his medicine cabinet.
The sparkles rain down into his sink in jagged pieces that tink and tingle with every drop. Picking up a shard, he cuts 179
himself across his chest. Pushing the jagged piece into his flesh, he pulls it down slowly opening a new wound. With a twisted grin, he mutters, "This is for you, Emma…"
Bleeding from his chest, he smears the blood all over his front and he harshly pinches his crimson covered nipples.
Squinting out of painful pleasure, Matt picks up the broken piece of mirror and slowly drives the sharpest angle into his nipple. Cutting into the tender area on his body, tears bubble in his eyes. With a gleeful panting, the edge breaks through the other side. Touching his finger on upon the saturated tip, Matt smiles wide mouthed, rubbing his tongue along his teeth as the lonely tears roll off of his cheek. Biting his lip bottom lip, Matt twists the piece and slowly retracts it from his right breast. He coos with a sigh, something of sexual in nature in afterglow of his self mutilated deviance.
Bloodied and moaning, he reaches his down into his boxer shorts and proceeds to fondle himself. Twisting his wounded nipple, Matt masturbates to the thoughts of cutting Emma. With his eyes rolled into the back of his head, he fantasizes about the confused anguish on his lover's face. The pain that he feels is nothing more than a simple pleasure for him. When he feels most alive is when he is able to inflict his hurt upon others. Matt especially gets turned on by those who are timid and weak to his prowess. Girls like Emma who let him do whatever he wants without question.
Stroking his erection, Matt thinks about drinking Emma's blood as he gropes his wounded chest. Blood squeezes out around his hand as he twists his nipple harder and harder. The pain he feels brings an overflow of pleasure to his mind and body. With a loud moan, Matt reaches his climax. In the afterglow he smears his seaman across his chest, mixing in his ejaculation with crimson mess. Catching breath, he comes to
his feet and walks over to his tall mirror that hangs behind his bedroom door. Pushing the door closed, he stares at the spectacle that he has made of himself.
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Standing with his chest puffed out, he balls his fists by his sides. Matt still feels his yearn to inflict some kind hurt upon someone else. Caked in his own blood and cum, he runs his fingers into through the goopy mess. Pulling his hand away, he smears his fingers on the mirror in front of him. He slowly writes "never ending" in large letter finger smears on the cheap reflective surface. Backing away, he takes in his work with a sullen smirk. Turning around, Matt takes a small bottle of whiskey out of his dresser and starts chugging.
Taking his lips away with a gasp, he walks back over to the mirror. Filling his mouth full of whiskey, he spits it all over the mirror.
Watching the rejected alcohol running through the smears on his mirror, he thinks about Emma and why she will not answer his calls. Looking at his gruesome state, he blames Emma. In his mind, if Emma was there than he wouldn't have done this to himself. Matt becomes enraged as he is over come with the feeling of rejection. Glaring at himself in the mirror, he takes sips from his whiskey and thinks about going over to Emma's house. He visions cutting her throat was her forcefully takes her in sexual rage. His emotions boil with volatile hate, mentally readying himself for a fresh kill.
There is no more thinking clearly for Matt. His madness has completely taken him over. Basking in the darkness of his sickest thoughts, he yearns to cause physical and mental harm to another human being. He feeds off of the terror in their eyes and the fear that palpitates in their hearts. Facing his rejection by Emma, he convinces himself that has to have her.
If he cannot have her willingly, then he will take her through violence. Matt would rather kill her rather than have her walking around knowing that she successfully rid herself of him.
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CHAPTER 22
The morning comes and Emma is wide awake to face the day. She starts brewing a strong pot of coffee and is making egg and cheese sandwiches for her and her sister. Fried eggs with American cheese and ham, bedded between two toasted slabs of cheap white bread. It is 8 am sharp and she is ready to go out into the world and find a job. With the loss of their mother, she is now ready to grow up and pull her weight for the household. Emma has been up since 7:30—she has had a shower and is already wide awake. For Emma, it is a monu-mental foot to be out of bed and motivated before noon.
Kelly walks out from her bedroom, "What the hell are you doing up so early?"
"I need a ride…"
"Where do you need be this early morning, your boy friend's place?"
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"No, I need to find a job…"
Taken back, Kelly is rendered speechless by Emma's sudden enthusiasm to join the work force. Wide eyed at her sister's retort, Kelly does not how to respond. For so long Emma has been the sheltered one and she never knew why.
She was not forced to find work while Kelly worked the fast food chains for a measly pay check. While she slaved over hot fryers so some obese middle class family could throw back grease pit burgers and fries from a dollar menu. Emma would be relaxing in bed reading books that no one knew where they came from. She would always turn up with new clothes and jewelry that no one had bought for her. Kelly always had a hunch that they were stolen, but she kept it to herself.
Secretly Kelly knows now that it was most likely because of Ophelia's guilt of what happened to Emma. Kelly struggles with whether or not she should tell Emma what Ophelia had confessed mere hours before her death. Wanting to be open, she does not know how her sister will deal with the information. At this time when Emma is ready to commit herself to getting a job and pitching in; how will she deal with it?
Taking a seat at the kitchen table, Kelly pulls a cigarette from pack and lights it. Inhaling her first drag of the day, Kelly's thoughts crawl through the groggy mess in her head. Fighting back the voice of her conscience, she blows her smoke as she eye balls the slowly brewing coffee pot.
While a slight hangover lingers due to the night before, Kelly hangs her head as she smells the eggs frying in the pan.
She tries to drive away the nausea with puffs from her smoke, but it is useless. There is too much on her plate at that moment and the last thing she needs is a piecing headache. Alcoholics are in constant recovery mode from their binge the night before. No matter what they tell you, they are drinking to keep those inevitable pains at bay. It is always one more beer, followed with another shot of their favorite poison.
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Before they know it, the time drains into wee the hours of the morning and they are repeating the same ritual as before.
Kelly is too stubborn too admit that she has a problem to anyone else. However like many addicts, she questions herself in silence while concealing her pain from everyone else.
She knows what she is doing to herself is damaging and that the consequence is not worth ride she is on. Every morning she feels this hell reigning down upon her, but every night she is back to the bottle. Like a slave to her own undoing, Kelly yearns for those few hours when everything is turned down and that light headed feeling takes her over. Smoking her cigarette, she frets that those times may be coming to an end.
With her sister stepping up to the role of the responsible adult, Kelly reflects on her own ways and how she needs to be.
After their fried egg sandwiches, Kelly drives Emma where ever she wants to go. With her to-go cup of coffee, Kelly sits in the car and chain smokes. She keeps her fingers crossed for her sister as she listens to the radio and tries to shake her headache. This drags on for two hours and with every other place she stops she is told they are not hiring.
Feeling dejected, Emma wishes that she just took that job at the bookstore. There is only so much self pity Emma can hold for herself at this point. At the time she knew what she was doing, though the times have changed; she has no one to blame but herself. Taking it in as much stride that she can muster, she attempts to learn from her past mistakes.
Dropping her off at home, Kelly gets dressed and makes her way off to work. As her sister closes the front door behind her; Emma's cell phone starts ringing. Hoping it is one of the few places she put her application in, she takes it out and looks at the caller ID. The name and number are listed as
"unknown". Her first thought is that it is a business number so she quickly answers the call.
"Hello?" She says in excitement.
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"So, now you answer your phone when you don't know who it is?"
Taken off guard by the sound of Matt's voice, Emma stutters, "M, m, Matt, what's, uh goin' on?"
"Why haven't you called me back?"
"I was going to, but…"
Matt snaps at her, "Don't lie to me.” Sighing, she says, "Matt, my mother died yesterday…"
A short pause comes over from Matt's side of the phone before he says, "Well, my condolences…"
Emma says nothing as she wonders what she is doing with such a selfish person. Questioning her judgment, she looks back to the short time ago that they met. When she first met Matt she was turned on by his seemingly natural cool. He exuded a certain kind of charisma that Emma had only ever read about in her books. The confidence that he showed was more than enough to win her over at first glance. Everything that Emma ever wanted in a man seemed to radiate from Matt at first. Now that light seems to be dimming in Emma's mind.
Instead of seeing the dark stranger that she lusted for, she starting to view him for the person that he really is. Slowly she is coming to the realization that Matt is just as immature and thoughtless as the others she had been with.
Wanting to be alone with her thoughts, she asks Matt,
"Can I call you back later?"
Matt questions her, "Will you call me back later?"
"Yeah, definitely…"
He can sense in her tone that she has no interest in calling him back. Trying to keep his cool, he simply replie
s,
"Well, I'm just gonna have to hold you to that, aren't I?"
"I'm just really tired… I just need to take a nap, ya know?"
"Sure", he says, "I'll just talk to you later."
By the time the two hang up with one another, Emma is convinced that she needs to end their relationship. She cannot help but blame herself for falling for Matt's charade. Feeling 185
the weight of her world, she walks into her bedroom and falls into bed. Kicking off her shoes, she tosses her conflicting thoughts aside with a shrug. Covering herself with her blanket, she cuddles up to her pillow and stares off. Resting her head, she wishes that she could be someplace else. Somewhere far away from her problems, for the most part, she has created for herself. Trying to put her mind at ease, she tells herself that one day things will get better.
It is a slow day at Lots-O-Crust while Kelly sits around chatting with a battered Donnie. When she asked Donnie why he had bandage over his nose, he told her something had fallen from his shelf and hit him in the face. Donnie did not see much of a point in talking about the fight he had with his best friend over sheer stupidity. Everything was patched up over some drinks and few laughs over their battle scars. As emotional as he was at the time, Donnie is just happy that his jealousy did not cost him his friendship with Parker. This is the same old story, something from the pages of a Shakespearian romance. Throughout history, the love of the same woman has been the death knell to many of friendships. Further proof that the more things change, the more they seem to stay the same.
After a few hours have passed and as much as Kelly has tried to keep it to herself, she breaks down, "Donnie, my mom died yesterday…"
"Jesus, what the hell are you doing here today?"
Kelly holds back her tears and replies, "I had to come in… I had to get away from the house. Not to mention, I've missed enough work."