Creating a Monster

**This is a piece I wrote for a writing prompt, and it ended up being really long, and better than I thought it would be, so I decided to share(:**

Creating a Monster

Small and innocent, the child took dainty steps around the fall leaves, so as not to crunch them under her feet as she walked. She wore the same clothes she had the day before, and wild hair flew from her face in the October breeze. Her eyes strayed around her, taking in all that she could; the red Volvo parked on the side of the road, the brilliant blue of the sky, the crisp air nipping at her ankles, the playground in between the apartment buildings, the bland cream of the neighborhood towering over her.

She tried focusing on all of the beauty around her; all of the things she loved about life. She thought about what would happen when she got home. Her mom would ask her what she had learned at school, and the girl would say, “I can spell my name and count to ten,” but of course, her mom wouldn’t give her a reply, as she would be talking to all of her friends on the computer. The girl couldn’t wait until she was old enough to have a lot of friends, like her mommy and sister had.

She thought about her mom a lot. She looked up to her; she had so many friends and was so pretty. Just last night, there was a party at her house. The girl came out of her room to find her house full of people, all drinking out of red plastic cups; the same ones that her mommy drank out of before she got mean. The girl knew that mommy would get mean later, but for now she would be really nice; hopefully even let her have some gummy bears for dinner! The girl weaved in between the people that crowded her undersized apartment, looking for her mommy. When she couldn’t find her in the front room or the kitchen, the girl knew that she was in her bedroom. She knew that if mommy was in the bedroom, she wasn’t to be bothered, so the girl went to bed without eating anything.

When she woke up, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and wandered into the living room looking for the box of stale Cheerios that she knew she’d left on the dining room table the prior morning. The front room was a mess of plastic cups, clothes, movies, and food. The girl looked at the clock, though she couldn’t read it. She went into the kitchen and opened the cupboard, surveying the contents; Ramen noodles, Oreos, Saltines, baking supplies, and cigarettes; all too high for her to reach. She closed the cupboard and opened the refrigerator, only to welcome the smell of rotten vegetables and salt, and quickly shut it again.

The girl heard nothing in the house, and peaked into her sister’s room to find her sprawled out over her mattress, dirty dishes and clothes piled around her. She continued past, and opened her mom’s door just a tiny bit. Her mom was asleep on her side of the bed, with a short, scrawny man asleep on her dad’s side of the bed. The girl walked into the room silently, slinking to her mom’s side of the bed. She dared not climb into bed beside her, and just brushed her fingers across her mom’s arm, “Mommy?” Her mom’s eyes squeezed tight, and then snapped open, exposing bloodshot irises and anger.

“GENEVIVE ANNE COLLINS! WHAT IN THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!” Her mother exploded. The man on the other side of the bed jolted awake, panicked, and rushed to pull the sheets tight around his waist. Genevieve heard her sister stir in the next room, followed by the slam of her door. The sound had knocked a frame off of the wall in the hallway, and it shattered on the wood.

Tears sprang to Genevieve’s eyes as she backed away from the bed. She hated seeing her mom like this, but she knew she should have just stayed in the front room and watched cartoons. She knew that her mom would be mean, because the red cups were out last night; the red cups. Her mom continued to scream unintelligibly at Genevieve as she ran out into the front room and curled up on the couch. She assumed she wouldn’t be going to school today.

~*~

“Genevieve!” Tatiana yelled from the front room. Genevieve walked in to see her sister juggling a screaming baby in one arm and the phone in the other.

“Genevieve, I need you to take Ariel for a minute,” Tatiana barked distractedly, “Do you know where mom went?”

Genevieve shook her head as she took the red faced, blonde haired baby into her arms and began bouncing her. “No, all she said was that she would be back late. Why?”

Tatiana rolled her eyes and rapidly stabbed at the buttons on the phone with her raw and eaten nails, “I need her to give me Annika’s phone number is all,” Tatiana muttered unconvincingly. Genevieve watched her sister wander into the front room and heard her bedroom door shut. Genevieve rolled her eyes and surveyed the mess around her. There were two children, probably 6 or 7 years old playing with G.I. Joes on the carpet, which desperately needed vacuumed. The television was switched to the latest episode of “Jackass”, and clothes were draped around everything in the front room; she’d always wondered why her mom was too paranoid to use the dryer.

The doorbell rang, and Genevieve changed the channel to something more child-friendly as she went to answer it. She maneuvered Ariel, now calmly sucking on her fist, to her other arm so that she could undo the deadbolt. She opened the door to see two of her sister’s friends standing in the stairwell. They walked in without invitation, patting her head as they went, and headed straight for Tatiana’s room, closing the door behind them. Genevieve shut the door again, not bothering to lock it, and went back into the front room to find the two children wrestling over a beheaded Barbie doll.

“Hey guys,” Genevieve soothed, “You can take turns, okay? Valerie, give your friend a chance with it.” Valerie glared at Genevieve before bursting into tears. Tatiana, having heard the commotion, stormed into the living room and grabbed Valerie up off of the floor.

“VALERIE, YOU NEED TO GROW UP AND SHUT UP! LET YOUR FUCKING FRIEND USE THE TOY AND BE A BIG GIRL! GOD, I’M SO SICK AND TIRED OF THIS SHIT!” Tatiana yelled as she shook the girl back and forth by her shoulders. Tatiana’s friends followed her into the front room, and grabbed the child from her. Tatiana and one friend returned to her room, while the other cradled Valerie on the floor. Genevieve looked at her sister’s, now shut, bedroom door, then at the mess that was her house, and then at the girl holding Valerie; a single tear silently slid down her cheek.

~*~

Genevieve felt his hot breath on her neck as he pinned her against the wall with his heavy body; she bit her lip and willed herself not to cry. If Tatiana were here she’d stop him, Genevieve knew it; but Tatiana wasn’t here, and she’d have to be a big girl. His hands traveled up her tiny body, and she looked past him at the wall. She looked at the picture hanging across from her, trying desperately to think of anything but this; anything but him. The picture was of her, Tatiana, her mom and her dad at Disney World. The sisters wore matching Minnie Mouse ears, and her dad kissed her mom’s cheek. Genevieve couldn’t remember this memory; she couldn’t even remember having been to Disney World. She lost herself in her mind, hoping that she wouldn’t return.

Genevieve woke on the dingy air mattress that still lie on Tatiana’s old bedroom floor, the musty smell of the abandoned room seeped into her nostrils. The room looked exactly as it had the last night that Tatiana was here, the only difference was that the closets were emptied of their contents and textbooks no longer littered the floor and desk. Genevieve sat up to inspect the damage and pain shot up her side. She lifted her shirt to find yellow bruises traveling down her side and her new belly ring ripped out, leaving a red scab on her stomach. Genevieve lowered her shirt, and scanned the floor for a towel; she desperately needed a shower.

When Genevieve stepped out of the steamy bathroom, not twenty minutes later, she found herself alone. She had told her mom that she needed to go to the library today to finish her homework, but she had evidently forgotten, and now Genevieve would have to walk. She looked longingly down the hall towards the front room, and counted how many days she had until she was expected to be back at school; and then counted how many hours it would take her to beat her new videogame. She got lost halfway through her mental math, but chose to stay home anyway.

She wandered into the front room and sank into the soft leather couch with a Playstation controller that her sister had left behind, turning on her game.

~*~

The music boomed around Genevieve as she shimmied through her living room, stopping to talk to everyone she passed. The lights were out, save for the bathroom light and the light from the TV, and her apartment was full of people; some she knew, some she didn’t. She made it into the kitchen, and reached behind the toaster to pull out another bottle of vodka; her mom was no good at hiding anything from her. Gen unscrewed the lid and took a hearty gulp, before passing it to her best friend who was perched on the counter beside her. The two girls passed the bottle back and forth, before handing it off to someone else, and then they got up to dance.

Genevieve let her body melt into the trashy pop that blasted from the speakers, her bare feet picking up the grime that coated the floors. Her wild curls fell around her face and her too-short denim skirt revealed her long, milky legs. She heard a faint noise, and assumed that someone had come into the apartment, which she was indifferent to. She closed her eyes and leaned her body into the wall just as the lights snapped on, revealing two officers storming into her living room, guns out.

A few people yelled drunkenly at each other, and Genevieve’s heart raced. Someone flung open the back door, and people spilled onto the balcony and over the railing, into the night. One of the officers scurried out behind them, hoping to stop them before they got too far. The other officer turned off the music, and spoke quickly into his radio. Genevieve was paralyzed with fear, and she sank low into the floor. She stared at the officer’s black work boots and organized her options. She could slink out of the kitchen window inconspicuously and go to a neighbor’s house, or she could come forward as the resident of the house; neither of which sounded to appealing to her.

She squeezed her eyes shut; hoping that this was but a mere dream, and she would wake up and be back in her bed, sober and alone. She heard the officer barking interrogations at the other people, and everything faded to blackness.

~*~

Tatiana dug sleepily in her purse for her house key, which hadn’t been used in several years, but that she kept with her all the time anyway. She dragged her feet up the few stairs in between the building entrance and her front door. She silently cursed herself when she realized that her key had fallen through a hole in the lining of her purse, and was now lost in the fabric. Tatiana reached for the doorbell to her apartment, hoping that someone was home who would let her in, only to realize that the door had been busted in, and angry shouting sounded from inside. She dropped her belongings and sprinted down the hall into the front room to find an officer pointing his gun at several drunken high school students.

The officer turned around when he heard Tatiana, and looked at her suspiciously, “Do you live here ma’am?” he turned to look at her, but didn’t move his gun.

“Uhm, yeah. Well I did, but I moved out, and then I just came back—“ Tatiana scrambled to find her words, “What is going on!?” She shrieked.

The officer lowered his gun, and Tatiana scurried into the room. She looked at the scene that surrounded her; the empty alcohol bottles that rolled around on the floor, the open balcony door, the stunned looks on the faces of people she didn’t even know, and then she realized that Genevieve wasn’t part of the scene.

“Gen!” Tatiana shouted, panicked. She knew that her sister had to be somewhere in this mess; or she hoped that she was. Had she ran off, she would be in so much more trouble. Tatiana looked at the disheveled bodies and groggy faces around her, searching for her baby sister.

She spotted a small, pale body slunk against the wall in the kitchen, and shoved through the mass to get to her sister, who lay crumpled on the floor. Tatiana took Genevieve’s limp body into her arms, gripping at the gauzy black material that was draped over her.

“Gen! Wake up, please Gen don’t go!” Tatiana begged her unconscious sister; Genevieve didn’t stir. Tatiana took in her sister’s appearance; her revealing outfit, dark makeup, too thin body, dirty feet, and lustrous hair. She looked to the ceiling and closed her eyes, hot tears streaming down her face; thinking that if she had been here, this wouldn’t be happening.

If she had been here for her sister when their mom hadn’t, nothing would be this way. The tiny apartment would be clean, her parents would be around, her little sister would be healthy, and she wouldn’t be surrounded by the stale smell of alcohol and smoke. If she or her mom had been around for all of these years, everything would be okay; but they hadn’t.

She looked down at her baby sister, whom she had practically raised until she started school, and guilt flooded her; Guilt for having helped to create this monster; this monster that had followed in her mother’s footsteps.

Insert Yourself

Dinner time is probably the most interesting time of the day at my house. During the week, however, everyone's out doing their thing, so we rarely actually get the chance to sit down as a family until Friday; Evidently, the few nights we eat together are the best.

So tonight we were eating enchiladas (yum) and everyone was throwing in their bit of our conversation. We went through the normal stuff; i.e. how our day was, what we're doing this weekend, etc. And, of course, Abby played the part of the middle child; never getting her chance to speak and therefore moping until someone would shut up. After 20 minutes or so of rather loud conversation without saying anything, Abby was getting exceptionally frustrated with the fact that she wasn't getting to speak, and so she glared intensely at me across the table until I conceded to listening to her, but not before I made a point.

"Abby, in order to be heard you have to ASSERT YOURSELF!" I shout across the table, "But now I'm listening"

"Well there's this dance at the end of the month..." she begins.

Unfortunately for her, Ethan cuts in, "Yeah Abby, INSERT YOURSELF!"

We, of course, all (save for Abby) share snickers around the table. I mean, really, 'insert yourself' is pretty funny. What's funnier, however, is how 7 year old Eli interprets it.

"Heh. I'll insert myself..." Eli starts. He actually continues talking, but nobody is listening, so it's debatable what he may have said.

"You know what I want," dad cuts into Eli's ramble, "I want a shirt that says 'Tab A'."

Mom rolls her eyes, "Of course you do."

"Where would you insert yourself?" Abby reluctantly returns to the conversation, still disgruntled about not getting to finish her story.

"Slot B. Duh." I retort without thinking about it.

Ethan snickers and says, "I know where Slot B is located..." (And now is a good time to note that Ethan is only 8)

After that, we were hysterical. Little did we know, the conversation was actually going to get funnier...

"Hey guess what mom?" Eli's still talking to himself, "Slot B stands for Slot Booty!"

So even if he was talking to himself, we did catch the "Slot Booty" part. (As if we could have missed that) While mom, dad and I were trying desperately to breathe through hysterics, the boys just kept on going.

"Girls have TWO slot B's!" Ethan says. (And although this was freaking hilareous, I'm not sure he actually knew why it was so funny.)

"Hey mom!" Eli continues, "I can't stick my tongue in Slot B. Trust me, I've tried. Actually, I'm trying now!" He's ecstatic as he proceeds to roll around on the floor with his head in between his knees.

"Technically," Ethan corrects, "Girls have three Slot B's..."

"ENOUGH! That's enough Ethan." Mom attempts to restore order, but we're to the point of no return by now.

After a few more minutes of repeating themselves, Ethan and Eli feel sufficiently proud of creating such mayhem at the dinner table, and the rest of us have a chance to catch our breath.

And to think that it all started with a misinterpretation...

Gym Class Heroes

Gym class r o c k s .
As with every class, gym actually has a curriculum, and it's full of things that I'm simply not capable of doing, like running 6 minute miles and playing badminton. This week I was expected to play floor hockey. This is about how the first game goes.

Jokes and sneaker squeaks echo off the gym walls as we file out of the dressing rooms a good 8 minutes after the bell rings. We probably make up the strangest gym class ever. There's a couple lazy people who rarely even dress out, two big fat kids, the new kid (who looks like he fell out of Metallica), a guy with a broken arm, and some loud obnoxious people who can't tell their right foot from their left.
"COME STAND IN THE CIRCLE AND LISTEN FOR YOUR TEAM!"
Ms. Fortunato's annoying voice rings in my ears. If we're in the gym, why does she feel the need to scream? It always sounds about twenty times louder than it really is. We all shuffle over to the middle in our tacky gym shorts and oversized tshirts.
"ALL RIGHT, YOU'RE DIVIDED INTO 5 TEAMS OF 6! TEAMS ONE AND TWO ARE PLAYING FIRST! LISTEN FOR YOUR TEAM, AND GRAB A JERSEY AND A STICK!"
She proceeds to call out the teams, hammering a stake into my head with every reverberating word. I might be brain damaged by the time she's even done with the second team.
"TEAM FOUR: ROWAN, ALEX G., ICSHA, RAMONE, HAYDEN, AND JAYCIE! SUIT UP AND START THE FIRST GAME! 5-MINUTE TIMER STARTS NOW!"
Greeaatt. I think I'm possibly on the greatest floor-hockey team of all time. There's me (the world famous goalie), the kid with the broken arm, Metallica boy, the kid who holds the hockey stick upside down, the kid who thinks hockey is basically identical to jousting, and the guy who stands by the goalie, not even bothering to pretend to be useful. At least we're team 4, so we don't have to play the first game.
We all go and grab a jersey. Actually, these things probably don't even qualify as jerseys. They're more like mesh potato sacks in fluorescent colors. As we sit in the bleachers waiting for the first two teams to finish, we wrestle into our fluorescent sacks. We really only have to wait around for 5 minutes, give or take, until the first game is called.
"TEAMS THREE AND FOUR, TAKE THE FLOOR AND WAIT FOR THE WHISTLE!" Why must this woman be so loud?!
Broken Arm takes the lead from the start, "Alright, Rowan, you're goalie, Hayden and Jaycie, defense, and Ischa and Ramone, take offense with me."
I dare to challenge Broken Arm's plan, "So you, broken arm and all, are going to play offense?"
I get a bewildered look from Broken Arm, "Well... yeah?"
"Whatever." I roll my eyes, and head over to the goal.
"I bet we're gonna lose. We suck." I get some encouraging words from Goalie's Assistant.
"Shut up. We could win. It's entirely possible," I try. He looks at me like I just told him I could fly. Joyous, I get to spend the next 5+ minutes with such an optimistic teammate.
The whistle sounds and suddenly the floor is full of commotion. Broken Arm and Metallica Boy huddle around the puck along with the other team's offense players. They flail their sticks around, mercilessly attacking the puck like a flock of savage pigeons. I'm in utter awe that no one came out with a black eye or a (new) broken limb. The puck spins out of control, headed for the other team's goal. Team 3's defense players work their magic in an attempt to send the puck back our way, but Upside Down trips one player, giving Metallica Boy the chance to pass the puck to someone else.
Now, the down side to this is that he passed it to the other team, but the up side is that the person he passed it to was so disoriented by Jouster's full-on sprint towards him, that he sent the puck right into his own goal.
"Holy crap! Did you see that?!" Goalie's Asst. is so excited I'm afraid he's gonna pee himself. But hey, one point for team 4! That's one more point than I thought we'd score.
The whistle blows, starting the game again. Broken Arm insists upon trading positions with Goalie's Asst. G.A. gives in, but ends up standing with the other team's defense. The savage pigeons are at it again, and I'm practically in tears of hysteria. Again, the puck finds a way to break loose, but this time it comes our way. Broken Arm runs out to meet it, and tries to pass it to Goalie's Assistant. Unfortunately for him, Goalie's Assistant has no interest whatsoever in playing this game, and simply follows it with his eyes as it glides passed him.
"Come on! Can't you even try!?" Broken Arm comes very close to verbally abusing Goalie's Assistant, but a stern look from Ms. Fortunato shuts him up.
Meanwhile, Upside Down and Jouster are back at the savage pigeon act with the other team. Upside Down goes to trip one of the other team players, but misses and trips Jouster. With no one from our team pecking away at the puck, the other team manages to shoot it our way. The puck flies towards me and Broken Arm. B.A. crouches down, preparing to deflect it, but it goes right between his legs and into the goal. Oops. I guess I could have made some sort of an effort right there.
We're tied, one to one. Whoever scores the next point wins the game. Broken Arm and Goalie's Assistant trade places again, and I've got nicer company for the last round. The whistle sounds for a third time, and the game starts. Oddly enough, the offense players skip right through the pigeon phase, and go straight to actually scoring points. The puck spins out and hits the bleachers. Jouster and Metallica Boy manage to turn the game into tackle football on their way to the puck, tripping and knocking down anyone in their way. They reach the puck and send it blindly back onto the floor. Luckily, it lands close to the middle. Broken Arm and a player from the other team start whacking at the puck. sending it out blindly, again.
Goalie's Assistant's eyes get huge as the puck flies towards the other goal. I draw in a breath as the gym goes quiet. We're all waiting for us to actually win the game. The puck spins, getting slower... s l o w e r . . .
BAM!
The other goalie smacks the puck, sending it clear across the floor and straight into our goal.