Lucille stared at the woman who had claimed to be her mother, sitting still on the sofa, her fingers which were sprawled on her lap twitching at intervals, her head bowed as if in thought.
She wondered what the woman, Sheila, was thinking about ten to fifteen minutes after Maryanne had announced that she, Lucille, was her daughter.
There hadn’t been a word spoken between them since then.
Was the woman thinking of another strategy? She thought, furrowing her eyebrows.
Left to her, Lucille thought that the woman should end this quest and go back to wherever she had come from. She could tell, from the scowl which kept getting deeping and wider on Tyler’s face, that he was getting impatient, and might end up slapping and pushing the woman away from here.
The thought of that had her digging her fingers into her pajamas so strongly, that her lap hurt.
With a jerking speed, she realized that she didn’t want the woman hurt. She already felt protective of her!
What the hell was that?! She queried herself, looking down at her fingers, as if questioning them on why they had reacted that way. The woman was a complete stranger for fudge’s sake!
But still, she didn’t want anything to happen to her. She blamed her care on her soft heart.
‘soft heart? Was your heart soft when you had kicked Johnson into a coma?’ Her mind taunted her, and she shrugged, feeling a bit guilty as she remembered the event that had gotten expelled from highschool, a month before her graduation.
She had been voted the prettiest girl in school for the third time in a row by the school’s board, a feat which she had thoroughly enjoyed even though she had thought that there had been some people who were more beautiful than her. For example, there had been Therisita (Mexican for Theresa) who was a nerd and always wore big gigantic glasses that framed her deep blue eyes. She thought she was extremely beautiful. The others hadn’t thought so because the girl’s head had always been in books, and her legs had always scurried home immediately they had rung the bell for dismissal. There was Camilla. There was Emilia. Extremely beautiful twins who hadn’t made it even to the list because of their hearing deformities. An unfair world. She had always thought.
Clenching the title happily, she had lived up to the expectations by being exceptionally fashionable but simple, a bit extravagant but humble; able to talk away with both the nerds, the poor, the rich, and the haughty. She had never had enemies, unless the jealous girls were counted. Well, not until Johnson.
Johnson was in her grade, though in the art division, and he had tried to get into her pants forcefully during a Friday night party at one of the rich kids’ houses.
Sofia, a proud but beautiful acquaintance of hers, had been having her birthday party, and of course she had been invited. She had gone too.
And during the drinking contest, she had joined, having known of her high alcohol tolerance. She had won of course, but at the expense of her consciousness. She had raged stupidly, danced foolishly, and suddenly tired, had dozed off in one of the couches in the sitting room.
The next time, she had opened her eyes, regaining a tiny bit of consciousness, had been when she had heard Johnson’s loud voice. He was barking at someone for bringing her late.
That had ticked her off. But she had been dead drunk, or so she thought, not until she had seen Johnson strip off his shirt, whilst walking towards her, a smirk on his face.
“What are you doing?” She had croaked out, trying to sit up on the soft bed which had beckoned to her then, but failing. She had been too weak.
“What do you think?” He had replied, pushing down his trousers, whilst letting his lips graze her cheeks.
“I’m going to fuck you bad until your head hurt. Don’t worry, I will be gentle the first time. I heard you are still a virgin.” He had mentioned laughing, fondling her left breast through the thin short red gown she had worn to the party.
“I told you I was gonna have you, by hook or crook.” He had continued, climbing on her body. “But you had laughed me off, thinking I had been joking. You see, you would have accepted me when I had asked you nicely. We would have both enjoyed it. But now, it seems I would be the only one enjoying this feast, since you are drugged and wasted.” He had said, fondling her two breasts with his hands, grinning in sheer delight.
And when he had shifted to the side, trying to push up her gown to her waist so that he could have his way into her, it dawned on her, even in that hazy state, that she was about to be raped.
Quickly, she had heaved deeply and calmly, closing her eyes for a short while, calling and tapping into her archives of military training which she had known and seen since she had been old enough to walk around.
And when she had opened her eyes, aware that the guy had pulled down her panties, hearing him gush over her folds, she had first subtly raised her knee ad if egging him on, and had when he had tried to sink in a finger, had delivered a strong knee kick to his chest.
After that, she had staggered up from the bed, but not before kicking and punching him to her satisfaction, till he had passed out.
On Monday, the news that had spread in school was that she had beaten up Johnson because he had turned down her advances and had gone for another girl. Stupid as it may sound, the students had believed the farce that had been spread around by the dude’s friends, especially as they had in their possession, a video that had showed how she had brutally punched Johnson until he had passed out.
The school authorities hadn’t listened to her story, for they hadn’t believed that a drugged girl could beat an undrugged guy to pulp, but Tyler had.
She was sure that he was the one behind the comatose condition of Johnson, and the strange accidents that had landed his two friends into the same condition. And for that, she was afraid for the woman. Tyler was dangerous.
“Miss Sheila, I think you should go now.” She heard Tyler say, and her lips trembled, falling agape the next second when she heard the woman’s response.
“I’m not leaving this house without my daughter.”