Favorite Crime- Bughead Story

Part 2

She walked downstairs to see her mom sipping tea out of her favorite mug, the sage green one her father had given her for Mother's Day. Betty was sure he got it last minute but her mom loved it anyways.

She could see her mother's hand shaking as she lifted the mug to her lips. When she put it down she anxiously tapped the sides of it. Tap tap tap.

"I think, I'm ready to do this." Betty had never considered being in a gang, even less leading one. When her father and sister died her world was flipped upside down. She couldn't stand to look at herself in the mirror anymore and see the shell of a girl who once played in the backyard with Polly, chasing their cat caramel around.

Betty hoped that's what they were doing this moment heaven, how she wished her sister wouldn't forget the sweet moments they shared together.

She fiddled with the silver necklace again, getting trapped in old memory's. "I didn't think I would ever see this day, I wish I hadn't." her mother admitted. She sighed and stood up straight leaving the mug where it was on the counter.

Betty walked over to the door slipping on her shoes, she could smell the familiar floral scent inching behind her and her mother's touch on her shoulders. "Your going to do just fine." she said placing a kiss ok Bettys cheek.

"Easy for you to say." she thought to herself.

They got into the car and the mother turned on the engine. Betty laid her head back on her seat, the familiar feeling of nausea pricked at her stomach. She could hear the soft hum of the engine below her feet, feeling them vibrate.

Her father had taught her everything she knew about cars, she would spend all day and all night during summers in the garage taking apart and putting back together cars. It was there thing, and now Betty pulled the car apart in her mind, and slowly peiced the engine back together distracting her head.

"Now when you get there," her mom said. "I need you to treat these people like your people. You have to be willing to die for them." Bettys head was trying to block out the wave of anxiety threatening to flood her.

"I know." Betty replied sourly.

Her mom nodded and turned off the main road into the backwoods. Betty perked up now, lifting her head from the seat slowly. She watched out the window as the tree branches reached out to the car. The path they were taking looked like a backroads, it was thin and barely fit one car on its own. The branches scratched against the car noisily from the trees overflowing the pathway, in a almost eery sense.

There was no turning back now, Betty knew that. Part of her wished she had the nerve to turn her parents down, tell them she thought their legacy was ludicrous. Her father, after all died only a few months ago along with her sister. How could she ever forget the bloodshed?

Is stained her memory and dictated every move she made daily. Would this make him proud? Would this make him angry? Am I doing the wrong thing? Even this she wondered, would he have wanted her to be brought into this scene, with these people who have backgrounds of violence and drugs. Would she herself become like them too?

They made a turn onto a unpaved parking lot, the dirt kicking up from the tires as her mom parked in the middle of it slamming on the breaks for a show. Betty lurched forward and then hit the back of the seat hard from the whiplash.

Her mom parked the car and turned of the engine with light speed. She stepped out of the car, she was wearing something that Betty had never seen her in. She was used to her mother's light colored sweaters and overly excessive necklaces and bracelets; but what Betty saw now was a woman with power. A gang leader.

As much as she hated to admit it her mother glowed.

Alice began to bang on the car loudly, the engagement ring meeting with the metal of the car making a awful tinking sound. She grimaced and got out of the car.

Once Betty got her footing on the ground she walked over quickly to her mom lifting her eyebrows. "Mom what the hell are you doing?" she kept her voice low as if someone was going to hear them, and it would be unforgiving if they did.

"I'm calling to them." she said without hesitation. "Come on ghoulies I know your here! Wake up and show your respect to our gang!" Betty looked out into what was supposed to be the crowd. Just a sad looking old man dressed head to toe in winter clothes peeling back a sandwich on a lawn chair. She was starting to think her mom was senile, when the trees began to rattle and the blue tarps pulled back to reveal the sleeping faces of the ghoulies.

They groaned and clutched their heads with their hands, they looked just how she pictured them too; burnouts.

They all had long greasy hair, flannels that either were too small, too big, or on the brinks of not even being a flannel at all. They all had signs of hang overs which Betty suppressed a laugh. What was she expecting these people were crazy. And she was about to lead them.

"Hello ghoulies," her mother said, her voice showing complete and utter confidence that Betty envied. Like a god talking to his own people from the heavens they held. "It's time." they all perked up falling into a group of poorly put together men. 30 of them? Maybe? She thought to herself. They all looked like they needed a bath and a fresh shave.

"Its time for the initiation of your new queen, Elizabeth Cooper."