The Snake Eaters Daughter

Chapter 3 ~ Morning Murders over a Bombass Breakfast Buffet.

Wake up!
Grab a brush and put a little makeup!
Hide the scars to fade away the shakeup!

Chop Suey! ~ System Of A Down

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I have been here in Woodland Hills with Rina and Lotte for a little over three months now. Truth be told, I don't really like it here, but I don't really hate it here anymore either. I've come to see this place as just the best alternative living situation that I have going for me at the moment. So for now I will endure, I will survive, and I will try to thrive! I am like that one weed that will not die, the crazy daisy! Or at least that's what I keep trying to tell myself anyway.

So since that fateful "Night of No Talents of Tomorrow", food poisoning seems to have brought me and Rina closer together, more or less. I guess that bonding over puking your guts out is a long-standing martial tradition for a reason? Like some sort of shared adversity that we both made it through, and lived to tell the tale. The trial by bad Bram Stoker puking shrimp incident, which we will always have a good laugh over.

I've even given the dynamic duo some new superheroine nicknames, Ebony and Ivory. Which I think sorta suits Rina's artistic élan vital, but sad to say is still way too classy for Lotte, the lily-white wonder bread of bullshit. Cause quite frankly, Lotte acts a lot more like a dictator without a dick, and not in the good Evita Perón "Don't Cry for me Argentina" way either. In the other dicky dictator way, where she will never ask for directions and always assumes that she is right about everything. Even when it is readily apparent to everyone else she is not right at all. The epitome of stick to your guns in the face of all opposition, no matter how obviously wrong you are. 

Which I am thinking is probably why Lotte makes a good police officer? Because this chick has zero empathy for others and could care less about anyone's opinions besides her own. With the one obvious exception being her girlfriend Rina. To be honest, the best thing I can say about Lotte so far is that she comes with Rina. Who is well on her way to not totally uncool in my book these days. That and the fact, that of my two new co-caretakers Rina is the more smotherly of the dynamic duo. Cause let's face it, I could really use a good smothering in my sleep sometimes.

Trust me, I already know what everyone is thinking ...totally Foster's TV family right? The nice biracial lesbianistic artistic/cop couple is going to take my orphan ass in and love me like their own. And before you know it, I'll be sneaking around with my new almost adopted step-brother in no time, right? Oh yeah, and all that crazy crap will work out super cool! Because everyone will be super supportive of our not-so-secret semi-incestuous love? 

Yeah well, I hate to kill the dream, but no, not so much. Especially seeing that both my new co-caretakers pretty much can't stand kids for the most part. Or at least, they certainly seem to dislike me a little, for some strange reason that I cannot fathom? I don't know, maybe it was something I said?

"Dezzzz'deeemon'naaaaa!" Rina singsongs up from the downstairs. "Rise and shine sunshine, it's time to get up for breakfast!"

"Five more minutes, I'm in my happy hate place with Daryl Dixon," I bemoan morning.

I drift back to dreaming of a zombie apocalypse. With me and my main man Daryl D, just riding around on our awesome postapocalyptic dirt bikes. Doing that good ol monster mash and shooting shit up with our cool crossbows. But soon enough my bedroom doorknob handle starts staccato rattling irritatingly so, just to piss me off a little more with the morning.

"Up and at it, Mona! Breakfast in ten!" Lotte barks through my bedroom door, like some super psycho drill sergeant.

"Piss off, Lotte!" I snap back loud enough so that she will hear me. "And don't call me Mona, or I'll start setting fires for fun again."