I finally gathered enough strength to get back on my feet. I wobbled up as my mother looked deeply into my hazel eyes with her wet amber ones.
I hated her.
I missed her.
She was a stranger to me all the same.
How could she be so selfish?
My eyes wandered down to her stomach.
He or she would have turned thirteen by now. She killed them. It was all her fault.
Heartless bitch.
I wouldn't accept my father's new child as family. It was a mistake. A horrible mistake. It was ugly. Like its mother although not born quiet yet.
It was no brother or sister of mine.
How dare that monstrosity look at me with pitiful eyes. She was a cold hearted killer who abandoned her own children. Her family.
All for what?
Money. That green piece of paper that made people do the most unmentionable things known to man just to obtain it.
"You know your face never changed a bit," she commented. "You still look like my little girl."
I made a disgusted face at her. Her tone went from heartfelt and emotional to a maniacal and angered voice.
"I am disappointed in you. I prayed every night that you were safe and wouldn't end up like me. I love you Emily!"
"Well you obviously didn't do it right you murderer!" I shouted. My hands were balled up into fists "You didn't love me! You didn't love anyone! You only wanted money and fame and look where the fuck you ended up! You killed your own child for fuck sake! Your ex husband!"
I saw a hard slap coming my way and I grabbed her wrist, twisting it in a ninety degree angle. A yelp escaped her cracked lips and her eyes lit up with flames.
"Emily stop it!"
I heard what she was saying and I wanted to but my body had a mind of its own. I had to be pulled off by the authority figures and cuffed to a chair.
My mother's eyes were enraged yet full of hurt and deviance. Her chest would rise and fall with every breath that she would take. She and a couple of the inmates took a seat in front of me and the other delinquents.
Each of them had a few choice words to say to us. They gave us their life stories and how they ended up in prison.
The fat black woman who had gotten in my face earlier went next.
"My name is Patricia but people here call me Ms. Tubby. Growing up I never met either of my parents. It was just me and my grand mum and grandad."
She cleared her throat before continuing.
"We were a religious family but I never wanted to cooperate with them. I was full of hatred. I hated the other children for having a mum and dad. I started to do drugs around the young age of ten years old. It began to escalate quickly after that. By the time I was fourteen I started to work as a prostitute to support my drug habits. It was then I got pregnant with me two twins Rebecca and Trinity."
She began to wipe the tears that streamed down her taut cheeks.
"I'm forty years young now and I haven't seen my children since they were born. I miss them dearly and would give anything to see them one last time. I'll never leave this prison. I have committed too many crimes and it's too late for me now."
She took a seat in attempts to compose herself. Lastly, my mother stood up from her seat in front of all of us.
"Some of you may have heard of me already. Or all of you may know. I was involved with a serious murder case of a very famous musician. His name was Eric Harper."
I felt chills traveling up and down my spine.
The name irked me. My soul and entire being. How dare she meet my father but I never had gotten the chance to. She never deserved him. He didn't deserve her either.
"I regret everything I've done in my past. I was also convicted of selling prescription drugs for money. I ended up overdosing while pregnant with my second child," her voice quivered.
Bitch don't cry now! You ass wasn't sorry back then! Hell you didn't even think twice before taking those pills. You never considered your child. Your family and your own life!
She wiped away a teardrop and sniffles.
"You may know now that she is my child," she informs everyone while pointing directly at me. "It breaks my heart to see her here. I expected better from her. I don't want her to turn out like me."
"Well unlike you, I didn't kill two people unthinkingly all for money so don't ever compare myself with the likes of you," I retorted.
I felt offended and her reaction was appalled. "Emily I know you're hurt and you feel like I abandoned you guys. To tell you the truth, I wasn't thinking about anyone else. You were right about that. But I love you more than ever. Everyday I thought about you and you're well-being. Dominic and so on. I wish I can come home and take it all back."
"Well you can't!" I yelled. I felt the burning hot tears stunning in my eyes. The burning hot fire eating away at my heart.
"It's already said and done! You can't play with life like it's a fucking joke India!"
"Don't you ever refer to me by my name, you call me mother is that understood?"
"Well you've never been a mother to me so you don't deserve that title," I snarled.
Her mouth gaped open. She took a seat and remained quiet. The inmates looked as if they had something to say but chose to remain silent.
They knew my mouth was disrespectful. Hurtful. Honest and blunt and that I didn't care much for feelings.
I was a little girl in their eyes yet something about this "little girl" was tragic. Not to be touched or to be kept. To be proceeded with caution for they just might get a taste of her painful wrath.
A part of me wanted to hug her, and let those soft warm arms embrace me in return. To tell her that I loved her. That I missed her. That I wish that she would just come home to us and take back her place that Barbara unlawfully took from her.
Yet, there was the stronger emotion self hatred, the many adversities of life and the loathing and disgusts of her presence. How I wish she could feel the pain and heartache I endured everyday. The many nights I cried wishing that she would just come home. The physical urges of wanting to brutally beat her were graphic. Explicit if you will, vivid. Dangerous and unspeakable.
The part of me wanting to call her every bad thing in the book just to see her cry. To laugh and mock her. To feel delighted at the sight of self inflicted pain.
The lonesome nights I spent in solitude, plotting of ways to kill her. Dismembering her body, starting with her toes. Her feet, then gradually moving up to her calves. I would enjoy the sharp screams of terror and excruciating pain.
Her thighs and torso being slit into little pieces. Each of her breast being cut off. I would admire each of slab of meat, taking note of my fine cutting skills.
My voice full of no remorse and carries no qualms. The sweet taste of her sangue on my lips as it splatters all over my white walls. Staining my purity.
I knew how to torment her. I could just throw it back in her face like I always did. Make her my prisoner.
"I'll treat you like you did your victims."
After I was released from my cuffs, we were then escorted to the male ward. Before leaving the other half of the prison, I looked back at her one last time.
She stood there phased and dazed in the clouds. Her eyes never left mine. Not a blink. Her body never moved a muscle and her mouth remained a gaped hole, small enough to fit a penny through it.
I was met with the cool smack of air from the air conditioning. The doors closed and locked. There was no return. There was no final goodbye. There was no love or words of enlightenment.
She was gone.
I walked and walked, following the rest of the line. I felt something scrape the back of my foot.
I snap my neck backwards to see who it was and yell but I looked down at the short blonde smirking evilly.
She snickered and I cut my eyes at her. "You think it's funny don't you?"
"Yes I actually do," she replied smartly yet innocently.
I rolled my eyes as I received another lecture from the lieutenant.
---------------------------------------------------------------
10:35 PM, Cell Block B496
I huffed in annoyance as I cover my face with a pillow. Blonde was my new roommate and she would not shut up.
"And I had a dog named Blue and-"
I threw the pillow at her and started to lash out. "I don't care about your fucking dog Blue! Can't you see that I don't want to talk to you?"
"He died last month..." she finished her sentence. Her face deflated and went sad. I felt something in my chest and it hurt.
I actually felt bad for snapping at her.
"Hey listen, I didn't mean it like that. I've just been having a horrid day is all and I am tired," I fumbled.
"It's alright," she smiled.
Her smile lit up the dimmed room. For a girl in juvie she smelt pretty nice too.
"Hey blonde?"
She looked up at me, getting comfortable in her rigid and concrete hard bed.
"Yeah?"
"How did you end up here?"
Her face returned to a saddened state.
"I got caught trafficking drugs for my mum and because I fought my dad."
I cocked an eyebrow at her in amusement.
"Care to tell me more?" I queried now finding her an interesting character for once.
She scratched back of her head.
"Well I come from a broken home I guess you could say. My dad was abusive to my mother and I and would drink a lot. Said my mom was the reason for their failed marriage. She began doing drugs and is now a heroin addict and did methamphetamines."
Ouch.
I felt for her. I didn't know what it was like to be abused but my mum was an addict as well and we both came from broken homes.
"She would send me to her provider to retrieve her drugs for her. She would sometimes use me as bait for money just so she could pay for them."
"That's just wrong," I commented.
"My dad always told me that I was a waste of space and that I was never supposed to have been born. Those words always stuck with me and ever since then I've harbored a burning hatred for him."
I nodded my head and continued to listen to her speak about her home life.
"One day he got so mad at me and beat me to death. I was tired of it so for once I fought back. I kicked him in the groin where it really hurts, and punched him in the mouth."
What a little savage blonde was. I never knew she had it in her.
"He lost a tooth in the process and was bleeding a lot. He had grabbed me by my hair which he knew was so precious to me, and yanked it. He would continue to beat me while yanking it too. Patches of hair began to fall out."
She coughed a little.
"After the long day of abuse I decided to sneak out and get that side of my head shaved off. A couple of days after, my mom didn't have enough money to pay for her meth. I had to run away from the guy because he would kill me if I didn't pay him. There were police nearby. Suspicious, they stopped us both and patted us down. They caught me with the drugs and I was taken away. Here I am now."
"What happened after that?" I asks intrigued.
"That can wait for another day," she smiles lightly. "Well, we're both tired. We have to be up by 6:30 anyways. I'm going to bed. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."