Anything but deal with her when she’s like this. I can’t just leave because Coop needs to finish high school, and with just two years to go before his graduation, I’ll suffer through my egg donor’s shit if it means we can graduate and leave—never looking back.
We’ve had it planned since the day I turned sixteen. We would wait until he finishes high school and then get the hell out of the small town in Texas we’ve grown up in. Get the hell out and make a life for ourselves that we can be proud of.
We’re joining the Marines.
And we’re going to be free of this vile bitch.
Coop’s still small for his age. I started growing and never stopped until I towered over my mother, well over six feet. Coop’s body, having always lacked the right nutrition to help him grow, seems to be taking its time. I could care less if my brother stays scrawny for the rest of his life. Doesn’t matter to me. The one thing that has changed is his timid nature. He’s finally starting to come into his own. And the chicks around town don’t care if he’s not the tallest, bulkiest, or most popular. Coop started channeling his hurt and pain into humor, and the chicks love it.
“Well! Where is that piece of shit?”
Finally having had enough of her shrieking, I peel my eyes open and take her in. I’m sure she was attractive when she was younger. Her eyes, which might have been bright and vibrant blue, are now dull and dirty. Like bathwater after you’re done bathing. Her skin might have been smooth and youthful at one point, but now it has a disgusting gray tint to it. Her arms, stretched out at her sides, show the clearly visible track lines. Her body is nothing but a tiny mass of skin and bones.
Worthless.
Disgusting.
The reason I’ve believed for as long as I can remember that women will do nothing but hurt you.
I fucking hate her.
“You gonna answer me, you stupid shit? I knew you were a dumb-fuck. Knew it before you were even born. Your brother is just as dumb as you. Bet that’s why your piece-of-shit father ran off. Couldn’t stand to face that he couldn’t make real men.”
I clench my fist, wishing—not for the first time—that I believed in hitting women. Regardless of how much I hate her, I still won’t raise my fist to her.
“Should have terminated you two bastards when I had the chance,” she grumbles under her breath.
“I hate you!”
I turn my head sharply to the left when I hear Coop’s voice cracking with puberty, shaking with vehemence.
“I hate you so much!” he repeats.
I should stop him. Tell him to go back to bed and deal with the beating I’m sure will follow this drunken rage of hers.
“Well, isn’t that sweet, bastard boy? I hate you right fucking back!”
She starts to move. Actually, she starts to tip forward in what I assume is a move to get to Coop, but I step in her path. I refuse to let her take this shit out on him. My body is bigger. I can take it.
“Move, Ash. I need her to know I mean it.” He sounds different. Not like he normally does when he hides during her rages.
“You sure?” I ask, knowing that, even if I let him have this, I can still be here to make sure she doesn’t lay one of her repulsive fingers on him.
“I’m sure.”
“Okay, but I’m right here.”
“Would you two fucking retards stop whispering?! I’m right in front of you. If you’re finally going to let those little boy balls drop and grow a pair, then by all means, let me have it,” she fumes.
Coop steps up to stand next to me. He comes up to my shoulders, but right now, in this moment, I feel like he’s ten feet tall. I couldn’t be more proud of him. For standing up for himself and for standing up to this bitch of a mother we’re stuck with.
“I’ve hated you for so many years. You’re a terrible person and an even worse mom. I wish you would just die! And I will always remember what happens when you try to love a girl, because I loved you once. Even when you wouldn’t feed us and would beat us. Wouldn’t bathe us or buy us clothes that fit. Even when you would lock us in that closet just because we dared to be alive. I will never let a woman get close to me because I know she would probably end up like you. And I know I will never, ever have any kids because, with my luck, something of you would be in them. I. Hate. You.” His breathing is fast, too fast, and I know he’s close to freaking out because never has he ever talked back to her. And if I’m honest, that was the most I have ever heard him say to our mother in almost ten years.
She looks confused. Maybe she’s confused because she didn’t know he could talk, but she just stands there for the longest time. Long enough for Coop to calm down. I look over and make sure he’s okay, but before I can make eye contact, I hear her cackle. She starts laughing so hard that she’s bent over, holding her stomach.
“Oh, you stupid little shit. Mark my words, Zachariah Cooper. One of these days, you’re gonna knock a bitch up just like your father did to me. That kid is going to be a little shit just like you, and maybe if you’re lucky, she’ll kill that bastard before it’s ever born. Oh yes, you stupid boy, it will happen because there’s too much of your stupid daddy in you to keep that shit in your pants. Not only that, but I hope you get some stupid fuck out of it… Serves you right for poisoning my life for so long.”
And with that, she stumbles out of the house and into her car and squeals her tires on her way out of the driveway.
It takes me longer to calm down than ever before. My deep loathing for that woman has grown even stronger.
“She’s wrong, Ash. If I ever have a baby, even an accident like we are, I’ll make sure that baby doesn’t have a life like ours.”
“Yeah, Coop. I bet you’re right.”
That night, we both sleep facing each other, his hand firmly placed in mine, our foreheads resting together, and I pray that he’s right. That if we ever do have kids, they’re nothing like HER and they know what love feels like.
If that’s even possible.
Chapter 16 – Chelcie
The first thing I notice when I start to wake up is how warm I am. I’ve always been warm natured, which is why I sleep in as little as possible. I try to wake my mind up enough to take stock in my body. My heavy breasts feel constricted from evidently falling asleep with my bra. At least I remembered to take my socks off; hot feet at night are the worst.
The thought of my feet, or more specifically my toes, is what brings it all back. Phil, his creepy toe fetish, Asher, running, Asher, and the baby. It all slams into my mind so powerfully that I’m left shaking and crying again.
