Bitter-sweet. I think that is the only way to describe how my life is running right now - sweet for the family I have, and bitterly horrible for the depth which I have fallen into with Andrew.
It is summer now, the girls have finished school for the year - Trina doing so with honours - and the house is feeling like a home. The babies spend all of their time outside in the backyard where I know they are safe now that it has been renovated, and we bought them a small pool which they adore. Cocoa spends much time back there with me working in the large vegetable garden we planted while Trina watches - gardening isn't her thing. They have all taken up affectionately calling me duck, as in mother duck because of the close eye I keep on all of them and the panic attack which ensues if I do not find them quickly.
So while my family is doing fine, me... not so much. Andrews calls are becoming more frequent, and he even insists that I wear a pager for when he needs me urgently and immediately. I don't know how much longer I can stand Cocoa's knowing looks, Trina's confusion or the babies hurt when it beeps and I suddenly have to run out to work. What kind of pharmisist needs a pager? I don't think Trina is bright enough to know what's happening, but Cocoa definately is suspicious. She watches me like a hawk over her babies, though allows me the space to continue keeping it secret. It's hurting her, I know it is, that I won't tell her, but I still think it's for the best - the less they know about the depth I am in with the world we vowed against so many months ago, the less they will want to jump in to help me.
And there is no way I will ever let my girls get involved with Andrew - though he has told me many times I am special to him, and HAVE been treated better than some of his other workers, he hits when he is angry, which is often, and has many times tried to get me into bed with him. When I tell him no he hits me harder where the bruises are covered by clothing.
Besides his violent tendencies I would never let the girls take a step near his house because of the dirty illegality of the work which is taken care of behind those doors. Not to mention the outright and very frightening threats he has made directly towards all of my girls.
Not three weeks after I started with him I went over for work on Saturday night - going to his office to ask him very bitterly what my duties were that night - they usually consist of sorting and/or weighing the crop and packaging it, some deliveries and various other illegal activities - I found him face to face with a large older man wearing a Mafia suit and shouting loudly in another language. Andrew answered with the same vigour in the same language before switching to English:
"You asshole, we agreed two young girls and six million! Do you know how many times I nearly got shot making those deliveries? And now you're trying to sell me three M short and a chick who looks like she's had three babies? I can't make use of her! What the hell am I going to do?" he was very expressive with his hands, and I briefly wondered whether behind his dark complexion he might be part Italian.
The man standing opposite him looked cool as a winter night as he laid down a briefcase on the desk.
"Shit happens. Business is business, kid." he said with a heavy accent... perhaps Sweedish.
Andrew suddenly gained control of his composure again. "You're right, Sir. So sorry. Of course, business is business."
And before the man had a chance to tip his hat at Andrew, my boss had raised his gun and shot the old man between the eyes.
"Business is business." he whispered.
As if he had known of my being there the whole time he beckoned me over. So very foolishly I did so, staring at the dead man on the floor in front of me in a state of shock. The only people I had ever seen dead had been my mother and my father, though my father was fairly unrecognizable after the truck had done it's job to him, but I had never see anyone DIE. Just... be there one second and gone the next, without mercy in the eyes of the man opposite him.
So I slowly made my way over to Andrew. During the time it took me to cross the room he had grabbed a second gun from his desk, and as I stood beside him he pulled the trigger on THAT one, shooting another bullet into the man, this time embedding it into his neck. He then smoothly wiped the second gun off, grabbed my hand, snd pressed my fingers onto it.
Bending down to kiss me on the lips, he muttered in my ear, "Now we're in this together, Tiger."
Then he made me help him drag the man out of the office, across the hall and down the laundry shoot.
I had been framed for murder.
It has now happened sixteen more times since then. Death has become such a numbing theory to me that I don't bat an eyelash when Andrew calls on me to help dispose of a body or deal with a troubling client. And everytime I help he kisses me and tells me I'm special. Naturally I believe him, and even more so when he begins to give me easier work - I no longer have to touch the filthy pills, go into the rotten smelling labs or even count and package. I now do small deliveries and even work the streets a little bit, and though it's more dangerous if I get caught, I learned some skills while with Mama, and feel certain I will not get caught.
Coming home from work one day, I see Cocoa and Trina sitting on the couch while the babies played near their feet with a few Barbie dolls and a lot of tiny doll clothes. The girls, hearing the door open shout out a greeting to me but allow me to, as always, run upstairs and shower before coming back down and being cival. The reason being that even though I don't use any of the drugs that I sell, many of the people that I sell to have no shame in lighting up right in front of me, even going so far as to strike up a conversation while getting high. With a look of disgust I can usually turn them away fairly quickly, however the stench stays with me until I scrub my skin raw with a stiff brush and a very strong cleaner.
Throwing my clothes into the laundry at the end of the hall I run into my room - which I am still sharing with the babies every night, waking up comfortably with one sprawled over my belly and the other settled on my arm against my chest - and pull on a coral dress with quarter length sleeves and a skirt that falls mid-thigh. Despite the rain we have been getting recently I have been wearing dresses nearly everyday, as Andrew prefers it when I do so, and the habit has been rubbing off into my home life.
Unfortunately nothing gets past Cocoa, who looks at me suspiciously as I come down the stairs twisting my hair casually up into a bun.
"Do you even wear pants anymore?" she asks, excusing herself from Trina and the babies to follow me into the kitchen.
"I like wearing dresses, is there a problem with that?" I ask with more venom then necessary.
Cocoa doesn't look fazed, instead scoffing and throwing her hair. "Sure, duck, you like it... I know you have some big ass secret you won't tell me, but you don't need to lie."
I snap my head to her, glaring. "What is that supposed to mean, Cocoa? Since when are you the expert in knowing who I am? maybe I'm just like this, did you ever think of that?" seems like Cocoa has had a bad day, and after working for ten hours around crack and everything-else addicts I am on my last leg.
"Whatever, Laura. You're talking bull-shit and we all know it. Don't be making excuses for yourself. I've known you long enough to -"
"Excuse me? You've known me for not even a year. We met in a fucking whore house and our relationship has been nothing ordinary. Don't you be pulling that you've known me for long enough to know me. You know nothing about me, Cassandra. Nothing."
Cocoa looks at me with hard eyes, and I though I thought it briefly before I realize now I have met an opponant equally as hardheaded as myself. "Laura don't you dare be trying to hurt me because of how you feel - it won't work and we'll both just end up fucking pissed off. So put on your big girl panties and tell me what's wrong before I sit on you and beat it out of you. This has been going on for too long - we agreed no secrets that could harm the family, and you have now gone above and beyond that."
I bite my lip, a nervous habit I picked up from Andrew and look away from Cocoa, deciding the best move would be a below the belt slam.
Walking up close to her I place my arms akimbo. "Cocoa, you're just a hoe - it's been you you're whole life. I don't expect a whore to understand what I'm going through, so why don't you just back off and let me start dinner, ok?"
Cocoa's guard quivers for just a moment, just two second of her barriers breaking down and all my words shooting their poison into her tender mind. But then they're back up, harder then ever, and she takes a step back.
"I'm going out." she whispers. "Don't expect me home anytime soon."
I force myself to keep a cold face as she storms from the kitchen, through the living room and slams the front door after her.
A few second later Trina comes tentatively into the kitchen. "What happened? Are you alright?" she asks. I hold my arms out and wordlessly she comes to me and hold me tightly in her embrace until I break it.
"It was just an argument. She'll be ok." I say quietly, turning back to where I was chopping carrots.
"Ok.." Trina says slowly. After a second longer of watching me she goes back into the living room. and seconds later I hear her cooing at Baby. I smile sadly. She's really not that bright, but she's always there for us, and I wouldn't trade her for the world.
True to her word, Cocoa is gone all through dinner, the girls short playtime after supper, their bath time and when I tuck them into my bed at eight. It not being late Trina and I go into the backyard and talk idly until 11 when, with reasurance that I am fine, Trina goes to bed, leaving me alone. Determined not to sleep until Cocoa gets home I make a pot of coffee and go to the front yard with a cup of it and my thoughts.
I know it was a rotten thing to do to Cocoa, hitting such a tender spot, but I cannot let her know of what is happening with Andrew, and she was getting close to prying it from me. What if she leaves me because I've broken our vow many times over and lied to her? I couldn't live with myself - I love her like a sister, a friend, and a daughter all at the same time. I can't lose her. But Andrew has said many times that he has 'an especially soft spot for the sturdy brown one, and could just see himself in her' if he were to ever come across her, or if I were to ever disobey him. But I can't keep telling myself that only reason I stay with him is because of his threats and our contract - because it isn't. Though t plays a big part in it, I will not tell myself that I do not feel special around him. He tells me so often how different I am from his other workers, and how much he wished we met under other circumstances so that we could have a chance together, and how wonderful and beautiful I am and while I am far from in love with him he has me... feeling things. Desires I haven't felt before, and a stronger want to please him and be with him than when I was with Michel, who I now realize my relationship with was completely superfluous. I thought I felt something for him, but I think I was just lonely. Now that I have my girls I can try and find someone who I can care about because I care about, and who can help me heal from the trama I encountered. Andrew doesn't care, and he's so gentle and careful with me about anything that could remind me of that or cause a reaction... except for when he's angry but everyone gets angry and does stupid things!
Speaking of which... It is now half past two. No sign of Cocoa yet, but I will be here when she gets back so that I can apologize and we don't have to go to bed angry.
Quarter past three. I am dead tired, have already drunk a pot and a half of coffee, when I finally see someone stumbling up the road towards the house... wait, stumbling? Standing up and meeting Cocoa at the foot of the driveway I can see in her eyes and smell on her breath she is piss drunk. Completely hammered.
"Cocoa?" I ask softly. Her eyes are hard as daggers and I actually take a step back. "Oh my god, Cocoa, I am so sorry, I didn't... I never thought..."
Smirking at me she reaches into her bra, which I now see is not covered by a shirt.
"I may be a hoe," she slurs, grabbing something in her hand, "But at least I'm a fucking good one. You cried liked a fucking baby everytime, thinking you were so cool 'Oh, look at me, I'm the new girl, the cute one, the one everyone fucking likes' well guess what? You suck, bitch!" she slams whatever is in her hand into my chest and after quickly looking down I see it is handfulls of hundred dollar bills.
I look at her in horror. "Cocoa! What did you do?"
She laughs without humour. "Take a fucking guess, bitch. I got drunk. I fucked a bunch of guys, I stripped in front of a lot of girls and guys and I got drunk. Like you said, all I'm good at is being a hoe. And you were right." she attempts to storm past me, only to throw herself wildly off balance and end up crashing into me half asleep.
"Come on baby-girl, let's get you into bed... we can talk when you wake up." I carefully guide/carry her upstairs into her bedroom as she mutters profanities at me. She continues the verbal assault as I undress her and pull a nightgown over her head and then lay her down on her bed.
"Goodnight, Cocoa," I whisper, cautious even though I know that Trina can sleep through anything.
A minute of silence responds to me. And then: "I fucking love you, Tiger."
"I love you too, Cocoa."
When I leave she's sobbing heavily, but as I cannot help her I go to my room where I quickly brush out my hair, change into a nightshirt and cuddle down between my two babies. Kiki quickly rolls over, up and onto my stomach, beating Baby who only seconds slower attempts to do the same thing. Neither are awake, though they both always know when I come to bed and respond acordingly. Satisfying herself with settling very close to my stomach and wrapping a leg around my thigh, Baby soon falls into as deep a sleep as Kiki.
Myself? I lay there, crying silently for twenty minutes before I finally drift off to a sleep full of nightmares.
**A/N**
Ohhh, intense, I know. Ok, so not really intense but it was emotional and shit, right? That's what I thought. We have some emotions flowing, I just realized how much of this story I have left to write... It's a good night. Vote, comment, fan if I'm worth it, all that stuff, I love you all deeply for reading this and the next update should be out eventually! To tide you over until the timebeing can I suggest my second horror/ish teen fiction book on here, Stitches? Come on, guys, there's only thirty reads. Surely it can do better than that, right? *puppy dog eyes*
Psycotically yours,
Lovingthecrazy