I would like to dedicate this to my best friend and sound-board Delanie. Thanks a bunch, you're a doll!
Myra snapped her math book closed and let it land with a dull thud on her beige carpeted floor. Her orange cat, Mr. Spiffy gave her an annoyed look from his perch on her shelf that had once held a few pictures that had been knocked to the floor to make room for Mr. Spiffy's napping place of the day. Myra stuck out her tongue at him and snorted when he resumed his cat nap. Myra laid back on her bed and listened to the silence of the surrounding house. Myra was an only child, her parents had separated when she was only three, she only saw her dad a few times a year, if any, and her mom was addicted to her job. Myra spent most of her time in an empty house, her only companion was Mr. Spiffy, who had been named on a sudden whim.
Myra suddenly leapt to her feat and groaned as the world spun a little-the effect of standing up too fast. After the world returned to its rightful position Myra headed down the narrow stairwell and into the small kitchen and poked through the cupboards, hoping that something edible would jump out at her and cry "Eat me!". Unfortunately, nothing did, and her raid of the fridge produced nothing more than a glass of water, not really what she had been hopping for. It was obvious that Myra's mom, Kelly, had forgotten to do the grocery shopping again.
As Myra downed her cold water she stared idly at the calendar that was tacked precariously on the wall with her large green eyes and noted that that Saturday was circled in red and the words Frank, Myra pick-up was written in her mother's scrawl. Frank was her father's name but Myra had no idea what her mother was thinking, she knew nothing of her father coming to pick her up, normally she only saw him in the summer, and maybe at Christmas for a few days. Myra stared quizzically at the calendar for a few minutes, wondering if her mother knew of anymore Franks but then decided that the calendar wasn't going to answer her questions and headed back upstairs, suddenly feeling the need to sleep for longer than was necessary.
The sound of her mother swearing to herself as she rushed through the small house, most likely running a few minutes behind woke Myra at 5:30 in the morning. Myra groaned and pulled her pillow over her head, wanting nothing more than to succumb once again to her blissful abyss of sleep for at least another hour. Unfortunately for Myra, her mother seemed to have some kind of radar that allowed her to instantly know when Myra woke. Kelly Lawson poked her head into Myra's bedroom and her airy voice filled the silence.
"I forgot to tell you, but your father wants to see you on Saturday, so he's going to pick you up and then you'll stay at his place for the week-end okay?" Myra had the urge to shout "No, of course not! Why the hell would I want to see a father who only sees me a few days on the year so that he can appease the courts and not have to pay child care!" Instead all she did was grunt to let her mother know that she had heard and then pretended to return to sleep.
As soon as Kelly left Myra's room Myra shot up from her bed, suddenly fully away at the wrong time for her, and started to pace, somehow waking Mr. Spiffy in the process and gaining an angry meow that somehow sounded like, "If you're not feeding me then leave,". Myra sighed an ran a hand through her mahogany coloured hair, it wasn't that she truly hated Frank, it was just that whenever she was with him she felt like she was with a complete stranger, she always felt so uncomfortable, so self-conscious. Myra calmed herself down, taking a deep breath, there was really nothing that she could do about, after all, Kelly had already written it down on the calendar, and anything written down on the calendar would take a whole wreckage crew to get it off.
"Well Mr. Spiffy, looks like Kelly and Frank have, yet again, decided things with ought asking their daughter, not that I'm worth much to either. Oh well, at least I have you huh?" Mr. Spiffy looked at Myra quizzically and then mewed hungrily, jumping down from his nest on her bed and winding his way between Myra's legs, indicating that he wanted his food immediately and that his human slave had better do what he wanted. Myra sighed and picked up the clamouring orange ball of fur and headed down to the kitchen.
"Well, at lease you're appreciative of me, after all, I do feed you." Mr. Spiffy meowed in agreement, probably hoping to get his food sooner.
Myra groaned as the sharp, manicured nail of her best friend, Sash, prodded her shoulder painfully. Myra glared blearily at Sash, feeling like she hadn't slept at all, and she could thank Kelly for waking her up so early.
"Go away Sash, I'm tired." Sash laughed and held up a Styrofoam cup filled to the brim with black, caffeine filled goodness called coffee. Myra's mood instantly changed to that of a loving friend.
"Oh my most wonderful and stupendous friend, might that beautiful liquid you posses be for me?" Sash laughed again, her blonde curls bouncing and her blue eyes sparkling with humour.
"Of course my grizzly bear of a friend," she handed Myra the coffee, "Now do you want to tell me why you're in such a bad mood?" Myra greedily gulped down the black coffee and marvelled in the bitter taste and the awareness that started to shoot through her lethargic body like a wild fire.
"Nothing much, just Frank suddenly deciding that it's time to have some bonding time and Kelly doing nothing to stop his madness." Sash didn't even look slightly phased at Myra's use of her parent's names, it was just something she always did, she only called them mom and dad when they were around.
"But I thought that you only saw your dad in the summer and sometimes at Christmas, and then there was that one time at spring break." Myra rolled her eyes remembering that particular diabolical incident. She and Sash had planned a beach trip for the week of spring break, and they had had to cancel at the last minute because Frank had suddenly shown up, wanting some father-daughter time.
Myra waved her hand, trying to dislodge the bitter memory.
"So did I but apparently I have to spend the week-end at his place, Kelly already has it all scheduled in so there's no point in my trying to get out of it, you know how she is." Sash nodded sympathetically.
"Well, at least it's only two days right?" Myra laughed without humour.
"Ya, two days, living in a mould infested, water leaking house that should have been demolished for the sake of all human kind." Sash shook her head.
"Come on, I'm sure it's not as bad as you make it out to be." Myra shook her head.
"Yes it is, you've never been to that horror house and you're lucky, but believe me, I'm far from joking." Myra groaned and lay her head down on her desk, wanting nothing more than to fast forward to the point where Frank dropped her back off at home, not that living with Kelly was all that great either.
"Well, at least it's Thursday, I have one more day of freedom right, you're always telling me to look on the bright side of things." Sash looked at Myra quizzically for a moment before carefully answering.
"Myra, I hate to tell you, but it's not Thursday, it's Friday." Myra just stared at her uncomprehendingly for a few moments before she actually registered what Sash had said.
"No."
"Yeah, I'm afraid it is, so your dad is getting you tomorrow."
"No," It came out in a wail. Myra spent the rest of the day in a daze, and she went to bed earlier than should have been humanly impossible, deciding that her math homework wasn't all that important compared to her impending doom.
Myra woke to find the sun streaming into her window and her alarm clock reading 9:30. Myra rolled out of bed-quite literally, and it earned her a bruised hip and a slight headache, and yet another funny look from the ever dependable Mr. Spiffy. Myra put the coffee maker going in the kitchen before heading upstairs to pack an overnight bag while the coffee brewed. After spending about five minutes downing two large mugs of black coffee she ran back up the stairs to have a scalding hot shower. Myra didn't dare take too long on anything, Frank hadn't left a specific time, just "I'll picker her up in the morning." according to Kelly. Which, for Frank, meant anywhere from ten in the morning to two in the afternoon. Myra thanked her timing, because just as she finished her morning routine, minus the breakfast that she never found time to eat anyway, Frank showed up in his rusting red that made more noise than someone being killed in an alleyway-painfully.
Myra drummed her fingers against her knee as she sat in Frank's truck that smelt of cigarettes and gasoline. Myra stared out the window and watched the building pass by, waiting until they hit the rough neighbourhood that Frank lived in, a neighbourhood that, if Kelly had actually cared for her daughter, would ban Myra from ever entering. Eventually Frank attempted to break the awkward silence, slightly surprising Myra.
"So how's your mother?"
"Kelly is fine." Myra didn't feel gracious enough to give him anything more than her three word answer.
"Oh. Well that's good."
"I guess."
"How's school?"
"Boring."
"What about that friend, Sheep or Slash?" Myra grimaced and wondered idly what would happen if she asked Frank what her name was, although, he should remember his own daughter's name, not that she would bet on Frank or anything.
"It's Sash Fra- dad, and she's fine." Silence once again descended on the truck and Myra was suddenly thankful for it, conversing with Frank was like wading through molasses while carrying hot coals in her bear hands. Eventually the truck turned onto a brambly path that was supposed to be a driveway, the driveway that led to what Frank mistakenly called a house, but what the bio-hazard unit would call a cataclysm.
Myra stared unenthusiastically at the pullout couch that has some suspicious looking stains covering its surface area. Myra would have gladly run away at that point but Frank would just drag her back, and running to Kelly would be no help at all, she would just tell Myra that she needed to spend quality time with her father. Myra dumped her bag on the couch and flopped down, trying her best to ignore the stains and the faint odour of God knew what. Frank walked into the small space he called a living room and smiled at Myra.
"So are you hungry or thirsty?" Myra doubted that he had all that much, probably even less than she had in her house.
"No thanks, I'm good." With that said Myra dug through her bad and pulled out her mp3 played, shoved the headphones into her ears and blasted the volume, downing out anything else that Frank could possible say. Frank took the hint and left her alone, presumably he went to the kitchen to smoke a few cigarettes and probably something else mixed in with the cigarettes, and maybe even a little booze. Myra rolled her eyes a pulled out a thick novel who's back claimed to blend romance and fantasy in a wonderful blend, Myra doubted it, but anything was better than having another choppy conversation with Frank.
That night Frank cooked burgers and Myra pretended to enjoy the most likely expired meat, that was, at the very least, cooked. After downing a glass of warm water Myra rolled up in the frayed blanket and went to sleep on the couch, not even bothering to pull out the bed, too down to care. Sometime during the night Myra semi-woke from her not so restful sleep to hear Frank talking on the phone, and shouting at certain intervals. Myra was to tired to investigate and soon fell back into darkness, until the sound of Frank's truck coming to life painfully early in the morning woke her. Myra groggily looked around and finally spotted the torn piece of paper with Frank's messy writing sprawled on the grubby page. It basically read that Frank had to go talk to someone for a few hours and to help herself to whatever food she could find. Find being the operative word thought Myra. Myra moaned when she couldn't get back to sleep and eventually dragged her carcass to the kitchen, her mood not helped by the fact that Frank didn't drink coffee and therefore had none in his house. How he managed to function properly in the morning without coffee Myra would never understand, none the less she began to search for something to eat, hoping that that would be enough to wake her up.
Myra sat once again on the couch, music blaring, reading her book. After throwing away the bag of bread that was more mould than bread Myra ha given up on the prospect of food that wouldn't kill her to eat it and returned to the only other available option, music and a book. Myra stared at her watch, Frank had been gone for a little over an hour, she hoped he would return soon, not for his company, but so that she could fake being sick and hopefully get him to drive her home where she might at least be able to salvage her week-end by sleeping on something that was softer than rocks.
Another hour later and Frank finally decided to grace Myra with his presence. He came into the house, looking slightly guilty.
"I'm really sorry Myra, but there was no other choice you see." Myra stared at him, the only thing that she could think to match with his words was that he was taking her home. Elation ran through her veins, perhaps she wouldn't have to fake illness after all, although, Frank had never been one to feel guilty for shipping her back early.
"I know that you don't understand, but it was either you are death, and at least they won't kill you, as long as you do what-ever he tells you to do, please be good, help your dad, ya."
Myra stared at Frank, now more than confused, she didn't understand. But understanding or not didn't change the fact that she started to struggle as soon as she felt strong arms grasp her from behind in a vice-like grip. Nor did it stop her from trying to fight her way free until the white cloth with an odd smell was pressed against her mouth and nose. The world slowly started to zoom out of focus until the only thing left was blackness, and the faint sound of a cruel chuckle.
Etsuko