****
Melting down the gold proved to be rather easy, my father did it in one night and then put it in different molds of various things. He made one horse figurine and another cow one and then a bracelet before heading to the jewelers the next morning and getting the 100 thousand dollars for it.
While he was out I hoped into my car and headed to the store. Seeing as I had thrown out my entire bedroom, I needed to buy some new stuff. I started with the paint color. Pink no longer resembled me, so I went with a dark blue that almost looked black. It reminded me of Brad's hair color and for some reason that made me like the color more.
I also picked up some new bed sheets, but looking through the section it seemed hard to find anything that I liked. My eyes automatically went to seek out the pink, but my heart no longer suited it. My eyes landed on a green blanket that had a huge flower pattern covering it and on the reverse side was entirely black. I smiled picking it up and throwing it in my cart.
Heading to the clothes section I looked through some new shirts and pants, wanting a change. TNA pants and tank tops no longer suited me. It made me think of everything that had happened, and that was the last thing I wanted to think about. I wanted something different.
"What do you think will look good on me?" I asked one of the girls wearing a Big Box Clothes T-shirt.
The girl smiled at me. She was on the heavy side, but I could tell she had fashion sense. Her clothes looked put together, neat, like someone who really had their life sorted out. "You honey need jeans, some tight jeans." She started, then asked me to follow her. She walked right to the t-shirts and pants and started showing me different outfits. By the time that she was done, I had a cart over flowing with clothes. I thanked her, walking to the cash and loaded my clothes onto the counter.
It felt so strange to have some originality in my wardrobe, to actually have to think about what I was going to wear in the morning. Somehow, that thought no longer scared me. Maybe it was because now I knew what real fear was. I felt stronger because of it. Little did I know, I was going to need all the strength I could get in the coming days.
I packed up my car, driving home and then unpacked them inside the house. No one seemed to be up yet. It was the weekend, so like usual everyone was sleeping in until after three. So, no one helped me as I carried in my many bags. My closet had been almost empty before that day, but after I had hung everything off and removed the many tags, stashing them away in the trash can, it was completely full.
My bank card wasn't doing too well either, but I had had a job the summer earlier and made a pretty decent amount of cash. Seeing as I liked saving my money, I hadn't spent a cent.
Once I was inside I threw down some plastic sheets and started painting. It took a full three hours but after I was done and cleaned myself and the area up, it felt more like home. The dark blue looked good with the white ceiling and my new self image.
I threw out all my old clothes. None were special to me as it was, so it wasn't hard. I even threw out the clothes on my back, taking off both my bra and underwear before pulling out a fresh set and looking through my clothes trying to pick out something special to me. I finally picked out a white dress the was form fitted and had a small black belt at the waist. Looking at myself in the mirror once and putting on a thin layer of makeup with cat eyes I was done. Walking out I felt empowered.
Once I was downstairs I saw Brad had come out of hiding for the first time in the three weeks we had been back. He had a piece of toast in his hand, "well well...who is this lady I see?" He questioned sarcastically. "New clothes?"
"Yes if you must know." I said walking to the fridge and pulling out the Britta-Water-Filter and a cup to pour the water in.
"And that's not all, is it?" He grinned, taking another bite of his toast. "You also re-pained your room to a new color. One that isn't so gross and childish."
I sighed, my hand wrapping around the cup tighter, "It was time for a change." I paused, "if you knew I was painting, I could have used the help." I said.
Brad finished his toast, "I'd rather see the finished product." He chewed his food loudly, "I like the new get-up, sweet cheeks." He started to walk away just as my father entered the door.
He had a smile on his face, "look, kids, look!"
"What?" Me and Brad asked simultaneously. We walked over to him, Brad tried to escape up to his bedroom but I grabbed his collar and he succumbed to my whim.
My father pulled out a tightly wrapped newspaper and opened it up, showing us what headlined, "MacKay's HeritageVillage tops Number 1!" He read aloud, "this is all because of that farm house!" He smiled, "and with that gold's help, we are entirely out of debt!" He pulled us both in for a hug. We resisted, Brad more than I but he got his way, keeping us in a hug for a good three minutes before letting us breath. "I've got to go tell your mother!"
And that was the last thing he said before he ran up the stairs to my mother's room. She was usually up at this time, so it was odd that she was still asleep, but that was where she must have been, seeing as I hadn't seen her yet.
My father screamed something to us, at first me and Brad ignored him, thinking he was just happy, but soon we recognized the urgency in his voice and ran up the stairs to his aid.
****
My body flew up the steps first, my legs moving freely under the white dress. I didn't care that Brad was behind me and my skirt was flying up. The fact that I had a thong on also didn't phase me.
"What's wrong?" I asked out of breath, my arms moving infront of me, pushing the door open and seeing my father kneeling beside the bed. My mother was laying beside him, the blankets pulled up to her neck, her eyes open in slits. She looked tired, maybe even drunk. I knew my mother, however, wasn't a heavy drinker, although her sunken plastic-like face looked as if she was.
"Call 911!" My father yelled and Brad, who was just behind me ran to the next room, picking up a cord-less phone and running back to the same spot he had been in. He dialed the number, his hands moving over the small key board.
"Show them." My father said, tugging at the blanket and my mother nodded, throwing them off and revealing a horror that would stick with me for the rest of my life.
Her legs were covered in these tiny red dots, small dots that almost resembled rust. It covered her entire leg, from toe to thigh. There were purple undertones that closely resembled bruising. But this wasn't the worst of it. Her legs looked skinner than normal, as if whatever had infected her legs had sucked the fat from them, only leaving bone. But the bones weren't normal, they looked twisted, as if someone had taken a hammer and beat them until they were bent and twisted to their sweet satisfaction.
"What happened?" Brad's eyes opened wide as he dropped the phone to the carpeted floor. It made a small crash as the carpet and phone made contact. I leaned over, lifting it to my ear and talking into it.
"Hello?" I asked, my voice shaky, "we need help."
"What's your emergency?" The girl on the other end's monotone, uninterested voice sounded through the echoey phone.
"I - I don't know." I responded, my voice stammering involuntarily. "Just. Just hurry."
"What's your address?" The girl yawned. I could hear her fingers moving along the keyboard, typing the information in. I answered her, trying to stay calm as my mother explained when the problem had risen.
"Ok, we will be there as soon as possible." The girl ended the call and I let the phone hang in my hand, finally placing it on the floor and getting a closer look at my mothers legs.
"It started last week, but I thought it was razor burn." My mother said. For some reason she seemed so calm, so un worried as the three of us crowded around her. "Then it got worse and worse. Then this morning..." she stopped, her eyes beginning to tear up a bit, but she held it back. "I've never seen anything like this." She said, looking down, but then diverting her eyes.
"Fuck, man, fuck!" Brad yelled from beside me, "that looks bad. Very bad." I shot Brad a look, telling him that he should make her feel as if it wasn't as bad as she thought. He was doing the opposite. He stopped just as I heard the ambulance roll up the drive way. Sirens blaring.
****