Blessings And Curses

Chapter 2x1

Dear diary
Everything is so screwed up. This morning I woke to the sound of a car pulling in the driveway. It was my mom.

She ploughed into the house without so much as a knock on the door. I watched from the safety of my sublet, and cursed my bad luck. Lately I've been sleeping at Coras house, but her mom decided they needed a family movie night, and I took the hint. As much as I love Cora, we're not bonded, so I'm not family.

I decided the best course of action would be to sprint to the beach, and hide in the ocean until she left.

I peered out between my curtains, and caught a glimpse of my mom. After all these years, so little has changed. She clads her short, curvy body in in tiny, colorful tops, and tight jeans that look as though they are under greater pressure than the seabed of the Mariana trench. Her face was painted in vivid streaks of red, black and blue, that contrasted like a bruise against her pasty pale face.

In short, I look nothing like my mom, and thank my lucky stars everyday.

I opened my window to climb out and make a run for it. A loud clash and startled scream stopped me in my tracks. I strained my hearing, trying to understand what was going on. My mom yelled loudly and I flinched at the sound. There was another crash, and my gran cried out in pain.

My moment of indecision was over. My mom has somewhat aggressive tendencies, which tend to shine through most brightly when she's pissed off. I ran into the house, to find my gran curled up on the floor, while my mom kidded her stomach with a sinister-looking boot.

Adrenaline burst through my body in pierce torrents, like a dam wall collapsing, and dousing all my muscles in liquid fire. I wanted to kill her so badly, I wished with the darkest part of my soul that it was her whimpering on the floor, with my boot ramming into her ribs.

Without even making a sound, I slammed my fist into her the side of her head, and she collapsed like a puppet with cut strings. Instead of remorse, I felt pride at my retrained reaction.

I looked down at my gran. Blood trickled from her nostrils onto her warbled lip. I didn't need to look closer to know she was dead.

All my emotions were on lockdown. I sat on the floor, and took a moment to asses my options. My mom killed her mom. I had walked in on the crime, but intercepted too late to save her. The murderer was unconscious on the floor. I knew how it would look if I called the police. They would stroll in see two people lying still on the floor, and a third sitting completely unharmed.

Fingers would be quick to point, and not at the guilty party.

Alternately, I could kill my mom, and hide both the bodies. The idea was sorely tempting. Wait till night, drag them into the ocean, and bury their bodies beneath a couple rocks. It would take a long time for the town to realize my gran had gone missing. I could even report it to the police station, say that she had a habit of wandering off. I would be free of suspicion, nothing but an innocent orphan.

None of those option felt right, and I realized why. No one even recognizes me for who I am, and as long as I made a run for it, I would have absolutely no associations with the crime.

My phone buzzed from my back pocket, and I jumped. My body was so tense I'm surprised the muscle didn't jerk right off my bones.
It was from Cora. Asking me to come home. Yes, I thought, I can worry about all this tomorrow, right now, I want to go home.

I took one more moment to look at my gran, and then my mom. I never really loved either of them. With a final kick to my mom's head, I slunk out of the house, to the beach, and swum to Cora.

That is where I am now. We're still sitting on the couch, but Cora has fallen asleep against my side. I love her so much it makes my stomach literally twist in pain. She is so beautiful, and young in a way I don't think I ever was.

I told Toran what had happened as soon as Cora fell asleep. I didn't want Cora to know that the monster that gave birth to me was capable of killing the senile pensioner that gave birth to her. The thought makes me feel dirty, like a thousand bugs have infiltrated my blood, and insidiously taint any goodness I have left. Cora deserves so much better than me.

Anyway. I'm not really sure why I'm writing a diary. Toran just brought me a book and a pen, and told me that writing down what happened would be the closest I'm getting to a therapist. I don't know if this has helped though. I doubt it's made it any worse.

This is Georgia, signing out.

Hey I'm back😋😋 sorry for the super short chapter, I'll publish the next one soon❤️🇿🇦