Love These Screams

Crocodile Machine

“All the same, I remain the one to blame and I’m demonized, purified, justified as you let yourself show. So now you’ll love these screams, what’s left of me. Love these screams like I do.” - - A Fire Inside, “Kill Caustic”

There was nothing but static on the screen, and the noise tore at Catherine Dennison’s ears. She was in her bedroom, preparing for a dinner party she was attending that night with her husband, Steven Dennison. Catherine was a doctor in the field of radiology at a major hospital, Medical City Dallas, and she was attending the yearly Christmas party. She’d been going every year for seven years now, and Steven was going to meet her at the party. He was a supervisor at a large law firm, and had cleared his schedule that night so he could attend with Catherine. Mrs. Dennison was very strict, and something always seemed to bother her. She liked everything immaculate and calm, everything had to be just so.

One could guess that she wasn’t exactly fond of her daughter, Mia, judging by that one fact alone. She had a habit of leaving things on, just to annoy her mother.

“Emilia, if you’re not going to watch the T.V. then turn it off, okay?”

“Why don’t you come out here then if it bothers you so much?”

“Not that again, Emilia.”

“Come on. I’m not getting up.”

Catherine slammed her hairbrush on her vanity and made toward her bedroom door. Just as she passed through, she rushed back in and pulled the thin blonde hairs from the brush, placing them in the trash and the brush into the vanity’s drawer, ever so perfectly. “A place for everything and everything in its place. Time to put Emilia in hers…”

She stomped out into the living room and saw Mia seated at an easel (the newspaper underneath, exactly as Catherine had demanded before allowing the purchase) and folded her arms over her chest.

“Emilia, how many times have I told you to wear your apron? Now there’s paint all over your clothing!”

“Catherine, please. They’re old anyways.”

“Well, you’ll throw them away as soon as you’re finished, understood?”

Mia pulled out a tube of black paint and mixed it with some white paint on the canvas. She completely ignored her mother. This was her favorite outfit for painting. She’d been told numerous times to throw the clothing away, but she never could. Those paint stains were moments of her life, and would always be on her side.

“And I thought I told you to turn that T.V. off.”

“Oh, it thinks…” muttered Mia.

“Excuse me?”

Mia turned and looked defiantly at her mother. “Nothing, Catherine. I was just saying that I like the static. It relaxes me.”

“Why can’t you call me Mother, or Mom? Something like that? It’s so disrespectful to call me Catherine.”

“Well I can’t understand why I should call you ‘Mother’ like you want when you call me ‘Emilia’ instead of ‘Mia’ like I want.”

“I call you Emilia because that is the name I gave you!”

“Well, Catherine is the name you were given so that’s what I’ll call you.”

“Emilia!”

“Catherine.”

Catherine pursed her engine-red lips and turned off the T.V.

“Emilia Dennison, I want you to go to your room right this instant, and you will not come out until I say so! You are grounded for a week!”

“Why not make it two?”

“Then I’ll make it three!”

“Well, if that’s the best you can do…”

“Go!”

Mia rolled her eyes and gathered her art supplies in her arms, carefully holding the painted side of the canvas away from her, but still out of her mother’s view.

“Joyfully. See you in three weeks.”

She turned and walked up the stairs, her combat boots making loud thud noises on the wood of the steps. Catherine sighed as she heard Mia’s door shut. That child was just too much for her to handle. What had happened to her baby? The little girl with that gorgeous brown hair and sea-blue eyes, that precious laugh, and charming smile? Now when she looked at her oldest child, all Catherine saw was a black-haired sixteen year old hiding her eyes behind those “emo” glasses or whatever they were called. She never laughed or smiled, save for when she was defying her mother, and always wore tight black tops and baggy black pants. Catherine had envisioned Mia growing to be a cheerleader type. Someone happy and perky, with lots of spunk and passion. Someone who wore colors. But all Mia had become was a depressed youth. True, she was full of that passion and spunk, but she channeled all of that talent into gory bloody paintings and self-portraits.

“I wish this daughter weren’t mine…. I deserve a better daughter, one like me! With dedication and the right perspective! Oh, I wish she weren’t mine.”

----

“Andy, I don’t know what to do anymore! She’s such a total bit—“

“Ah ah, language, Mia.”

“Sorry, but I can’t help it! What am I supposed to do, I mean, she freaks out just because I like the static on the TV! I’m just sitting there painting, and she walks in blowing up at me. She just grounded me and I didn’t do anything! That’s not fair!”

“Hey, I’m on your side, okay? You don’t have to convince me. Just calm down, alright?”

“I AM CALM! I mean… I am…. Calm.”

Andy chuckled lightly. “Mia, it’s just a few weeks of grounding!”

“Just a few weeks? But…. Weren’t we supposed to….”

“Yes, we were. But here’s an idea. When’s your mother leaving to her party?”

“Oh, she’s gone. I waited till she left to call you; who knows if Catherine would listen in?”

“Well, instead of me taking you to the movies and out for pizza, why don’t I rent a movie and bring the pizza to you? How’s that sound?”

“I … argh…..” Mia stood at the foot of her bed and fell face-forward onto her mattress. She said something, but the sound was muffled through her pillows.

“I’m sorry, what was that? No? Well then….”

“NO!”

“No?”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“No!”

“Mia, come on! Which is it! Yes or no?”

“No, I did not say no. Yes, it would be great to have you come over. Bailey and Ada are with their babysitter, so it’d be just us.”

“Great. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Okay. Bye, Andy.”

“Bye Mia Bee.”

Mia smiled. Mia Bee. That was what Andy called Mia when they were children. He usually did it to tease her now, as she didn’t like it that much anymore. But it just felt good to hear that tonight. Andy always made her feel good. Maybe that’s why he was such a good …. What was he to her? Just a friend? They’d gone out before, but it always seemed to Mia that Andy was just being her best friend. Still, Mia’s Guy-Perception Meter never really worked right….

A/N – Okay, so? REVIEW IT! E-MAIL ME! SOMETHING!!! I crave replies.