All Rights Reserved ©

Chapter Three


The passing darkness at the close of the dream evaporated into streaks of green, brown, and yellow as he opened his eyes a little.

I drink my vodka/Got it by five finger discount/sittin’ and partyin’ by a creek/just me and my guy Gary/Gary, he’s sound asleep.”

His eyes were hurting. He closed them again. He felt another pain, a throbbing pain in the frontal area of his nose now compressed against the green/brown/yellow grass blades.

“Gary the master thief/Can run by just his feet/Go, go Gary/I told you to hurry/told you not to worry/Snatched me my Absolut/You found the task to be easy.”

The grass didn’t smell fresh to him. It smelt more like wet mud. He could see drops of water under the blades of grass. He could hear sounds. Water streaming. He wasn’t running anymore by houses or from three guys trying to beat his ass. Gary had not gone anywhere. He was still near that creek where Trench and Becci were. Becci. It was her voice speaking the rapping.

“You can run, boy/You can run/You can run, baby/You run like a chick-un/You make me want to fuck you ‘til you cum”

Gary’s eyes opened real wide. Didn’t matter to him if his eyes were real sore. He lifted his head up. He didn’t care that sun was shining overhead and blinding his sight. He did have to squint at Becci. She was sitting near where he was lying. Her legs were bent together and her pretty petticured feet were sticking up. She had her back leaning with one arm down resting on the grass. Her other hand she was using to hold the now opened bottle of Absolut. Her pretty hazel eyes were now glossy.

“You like how I rap, babe?” Becci asked with a wide, sloppy smile.

Gary didn’t want to see Becci looking this way. He looked down and was about to bury his face in the grass again.

“No, no!” Becci got up from where she was sitting and stood up with her back bent low and walked over to Gary. “You wake up.”

Becci set the bottle of Absolut on the grass. Gary looked closer at the vodka bottle and could see dirt and grass stuck near the bottom of the outside of the bottle. Nasty.

Becci ran her arms under Gary’s arm pits and pulled him up off the ground. His body felt sore all over and hurt as Becci pulled him up. He did not feel like moving at all.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!”

“Oh you big, poor baby! You must have run like hell in there.”

“I did. I was chased. I had security, the greeter, customers after me, I---“

Becci suddenly grabbed Gary by the neck of his shirt and kissed him directly on the lips. Gary could taste tobacco and the strong odor of vodka on her breath, but he didn’t care. Becci looked deep through Gary’s blue eyes. She could see that he has only known abuse, rejection, bitterness, and far too much isolation. Had she not had her own pain to suffer, Becci’s heart would almost break at discovering Gary’s truth now.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm! You went through all that for me? You crazy ass!”

Becci released her lips from Gary’s. Gary looked at her with his lips frozen in a puckering. Becci giggled.

“Are you alright?”

“That, that, that was……my first kiss.”

Becci kissed Gary again, though with a peck of a kiss.

“Well congratulations, Gary. Have a drink.”

“Ooooooohhhhhhh!” Gary sunk his eyebrows and dimmed his eyes, made a sour face. Becci picked up the bottle of Absolut and stuck the end of the bottle to his mouth.

“Drink…..for me.”

Gary looked Becci in the eyes and took a hard swallow of the vodka. His lips really puckered now. His face really turned sour as the alcohol went down and scorched through his stomach. But that didn’t bother Gary as much as seeing Becci start to scratch herself near her eyes. Gary wondered why she was doing that, but made no effort to ask her. It was like the scars on her. None of his business.

“Was that your first drink of vodka?” Becci asked with a bright smile though there were marks near her eyes. Gary nods. Becci looked at Gary’s Eminem shirt and turned him toward her. His shirt was covered with wet dirt and grass. With a few hard slaps, Becci removed the dirt and grass.

“That’s too nice a shirt.”

Gary just noticed Becci’s titties were huge and her nipples were pointing out through the fabric of her bikini top. He also kept looking at how he was a few inches taller than Becci, but could not understand why her legs were so much longer than his.

“It’s my favorite shirt.”

“Ya shouldn’t let yaw favorite shirt get so dirty. Ya know Eminem is a god---“

“ Becci—“

“’Bout time ya said my name.”

“Eminem’s the shit, but he isn’t God.”

“Say what?”

“There is only God, Becci.”

Becci blinked her eyes a few times, held her lips open just a little as she studied Gary. She already knew he has suffered years of isolation and abuse, but now she was figuring out where that isolation was stemming from. Religion. Now, Becci just had to break that.



“How do you know there is a God?”

The wind around Gary and Becci started to pick up. Gary’s hair blew in front of his eyes. Becci’s ponytail started to whip around behind her head.

“Becausssssse---“ Gary at first could only think as an explanation ‘Because the Bible says so.’, but he knew that with a girl or person like Becci that was not enough to convince her, so he had to think harder.

“Well, think of this wind.”

“Yeah. What about it? It comes from God? I don’t believe it. How else do you know a God is real?” Becci’s expression was very hardened, intimidating too. She had lost the tenderness Gary had seen when she had kissed him and this was scary.

“I,I’ll cross a road,” Gary began to propose.” And there are no cars in either direction. That’s God at work.”

Becci shakes her head.

“Co-wink-i-dink! “

“’Co-wink-a-dink?’” Gary made a funny face as he said that word for the first time. He closed his one eye and lifted his upper lip upon saying dink.

“A coincidence. That’s all that was Gary. Anything else for me?”

“I had a dream—--“


“I just dreamed I was Peter---“

“Peter who?” Becci brought her lips together then swayed her head grinning.


“Peter!” Gary looked and felt immensely confused at how Becci knew nothing of: “ The Apostle Peter. And I was talking to Jesus.”

“Sweetheart, you have been brought up to read too much into everything. That’s what believing in a God who ain’t real does to your mind. You look for your God to be in anything so you can have hope in something.”

“But, but, but then, what are you supposed to believe in---I mean hope in if there is no God to believe in?”


Gary raised his eyebrows and was about to repeat what Becci just said to him when she explained:

“You Only Live Once. You have one life, hun. Believe and hope in this one life. “

“’Hope in this life’?”

“That’s right. And truth.”

“Then what?”

“Don’t ask, Gary. Let’s just get walkin’. I’m sick of bein’ out here, ya know. “ She started to scratch at her eyes again. “I’s got somewhere we can go and no, don’t ask where. Just follow. Y.O.L.O.”

“Y.O.L.O.” Gary said with his own ear to ear grin. Becci kissed him again. His smile grew bigger. He showed his teeth. His eyes closed. Becci grabbed his hand and pulled him away.

The wind stopped. The tall wild grass and cat tails stood still in the hot spring sun that as far as Gary knew now, was product to no one. Gary believed now there was no God. He believed this because he had no way of proving there was a God. This turnaround from his background did start when he rushed headlong toward stealing. If there is no God, then his commandment to not steal must not be valid. Gary walked hand in hand with Becci not feeling lost, but unlatched from ideas that held him back so. Yes the running did free him, but his renouncement toward God had freed him fully. He had one lagging thought; he could see his mother now crying over him denying that God is real.

Monica was crying in the passenger seat of her car, crouched in her seat. Gabe is driving her car at a smooth mph and watching the road like a good boy. Thing is Gabe will only drive where his mother will feel like going. He feels too guilty right now to want to drive to his girlfriend’s home and anywhere he would want to drive. Gabe is stuck driving his mother’s car nowhere. He finally takes a long, hard breath and when Monica calms her crying, asks her:

“How ‘bout I drive us to the police station and we just make that report on Gary?”

“O—kay!” Monica replied through her crying. It took her only a few seconds for her to flip then flop then scream: “No! Don’t drive there!”

“Okay!” Gabe almost entered a left turn lane nearly cutting off a driver behind him provoking that driver to honk at him. Gabe kept his cool, but had to be on the level with Monica. “It’s your car Mom, you have to decide where I drive it.”

“Home.” Monica answered, her voice sounding recovered. Gabe liked how she sounded so he drove straight toward their house. Monica adjusted how she was sitting less bundled up like a scared child. She moved about and sat normal in the passenger seat, opened the glove box and helped herself to some tissue to wipe away her tears. Gabe was waiting for her to tell him how to drive home. He would not have argued with her, but would have listened to be nice. Monica did not order Gabe at driving. She was broken. Gabe wanted her to rest and insisted on that when they arrived home.

Gabe helped Monica out of the car and into their house. His politeness and care made her cry again. Gabe comforted Monica more by hugging her all the way to her room where he helped her remove her booties and then lay back on her bed.

“You really need rest, Mom.”

“I don’t want to have to need therapy, Gabe. Or be sent to some institution.”

“You don’t need all that. A good sleep is all you need. I’ll be in the house. You want any….tea or anything?”

“No. I’m just gonna sleep. Thanks for all you did for me.” They hugged one last time very long and warmly. Gabe then left his mother’s bedroom leaving her door shut with only a little crack of the door open.

Monica lied there on her bed. She didn’t like how she was wearing her good clothes. She could not rest. Her mind was racing like crazy. All focused on where Gary was, but the real issue was the shock she was feeling at what Gabe had proven to her. Her oldest had chiseled away at her outer armor like no man had ever done, not even her ex had ever gotten through to her like that. Monica has always known herself to be strong and now she was frail and hating it. She also hated how she was doing what Gabe was telling her to do. She had to not rest, not be confined by Gabe’s directions. Monica crawled out of her bed. Carefully she opened her ajar bedroom door and stepped down the hallway to Gary’s bedroom.

Monica found the door to her youngest son’s room to still be open. This aired out some of the smell that had accumulated earlier that morning. The first thing Monica did here was take in the scents associated with Gary to remind her of him. Then she sat on the bed and looked at how it was unmade all by Gary. This of course caused her to cry again. She pulled his blankets up to her and held them tightly thinking as to what she had done to make him run off. It was her controlling Gary, like Gabe had said. This burned at Monica made her cry even harder. She realized she should not have told Gary she was going to pick a college for him. That mandate had scared him, threatened him with a fear he would never have control of his adult life.

Monica needed something to take away her pain at that moment. She looked around Gary’s room and turned around to see his textbooks and notebooks set near his bed on his dresser drawer. She got up off the bed and pulled out one of the notebooks wanting to read some of Gary’s handwriting. She read the handwriting and was tickled at seeing how Gary wrote. Monica giggled under her tears the way Gary still made his letters so sloppy and childlike, but loved how she could easily recognize his writing to be his.

Gabe checked on Monica in her bedroom. When he did not find her there he began to call for her. Monica could hear Gabe and she was surprised at how she felt afraid of Gabe finding her to not be where she was supposed to be. Monica stood up, walked over to the bedroom door and quietly shut it hoping Gabe would not see her, but he did.

“Mom! Mom!” Gabe did sound mad, like he was ready to raise the roof. He left Monica’s room and just saw her closing Gary’s door. “What are you doing in there?” Gabe yanked the door open. He found Monica standing behind the door looking embarrassed and holding the notebook of Gary’s. Gabe assessed his mother trying to pinpoint her reasoning for being in Gary’s room, but couldn’t.

“Were you looking for some kind of note from him?”

“No. I was just, I was just. I was just going to clean his room.”

“Well you shouldn’t. Go back and rest. Your nerves are shot.”

Gabe stepped in and took his mother by the arm, escorted her back to her room. Gabe’s cell phone started ringing. He ignored the call so he could see his mother back to her bed then he checked the alert.

“Who was that?” Monica hoped it might be Gary.

“It’s ….dad.”

“Oh.” Monica turned over on her bed and grabbed at her pillow.

“I called him. Left a message.”

“Why did you call him?” Monica turns over.

“Because he should know about Gary.” Gabe dials his father ……… back. Monica watches Gabe make the call and leave her bedroom. Wanting his privacy, Gabe shuts the door to Monica’s room behind him.

“You can leave the door open.” Monica says a little too late.

Door shuts. Monica’s eyes roll. She wants to get up again and open her door, just stays on her bed. Gabe’s phone rings three times and is answered at the fourth ring by Glenn, father to Gabe and Gary.

“I’m ‘it’ again, huh Gabriel?” Glenn answers.

“You always are Dad. When are you going to answer my calls at first?”

“When you start remembering that I called you. Now why are you calling me back so quick? You want to golf this late?”

“Dad, I wish I could call to pal around, but there’s big drama at home.”

“What’s going on, Gabriel?”

“Gary has run away from Mom’s house.”

“You know I’m not that surprised, sorry to say, but I would expect him to do that. He might be making his way to my house.”

“Oh dad, no. He ran from the house. On foot.”

“I see. Did you and your mom go looking for him?”

“Yes. We had no luck. And dad.” Gary talks in a whisper.” She is a nervous wreck. She had a breakdown.”

“Really? Can I talk to her?”

“Well, she is resting.”

“Okay. You want me to come over?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well what can I do?”

“Hmmmmm? I don’t know Dad. I guess I just called to let you know.”

“That was nice, smart of you. Keep me posted if you hear anything on Gary. Have you tried calling the police about it?”

“Almost, but Mom thinks since Gary is eighteen and that that would not be a wise idea.”

“It doesn’t matter if he is an adult, he is still a missing person. Let the cops know. Why don’t you call in on Gary?”

“Me? Me call the cops and place a report?”

“I’ll do it, Gabriel. He’s my son. I can do it.”

“Oh, but Dad---“

“Don’t worry about what your mom will say or do. It’s what your mom said or did that made Gary do this. I will notify the police that Gary is missing. Just don’t tell your mom. Promise me that, alright?”

“Alright, Dad.”

“Bye Gabriel, love ya.”

“I love you, Dad. Bye.”

Gabe pressed End on his phone just as Monica was calling to him from her bedroom. He was standing in the living room near the kitchen.


“Mom, rest!”

“What did your father have to say?”

Gabe made no immediate reply, but entered his mother’s room.

“When are you going to sleep? And why were you listening in on my call?”

“But it sounded important. You were talking to him for a while.”

Gabe gently pushed his mother back down against her bed and pulled the blanket there over her. He was hiding a smirk too enjoying holding his mother from regaining power that would only make matters worse for them both.

“Just never the mind. Sleep! Go to sleep. If you sleep, you will feel better and I will feel better, please.”

“Alright Gabe. I will sleep, but what are going to do.”

“I guess I’ll make something to eat and call my girl then maybe watch a baseball game, but I assure you I’m not leaving the house.”



With his mother lying down for sure this time, Gabe left. Monica was nestled under her blanket and did feel comfortable. Internally, she did want to get up and scream at Gabe for not telling her about his call and having the nerve to restrain her like this. But she did feel tired and looking at things another way, she did like how Gabe was tending to her. This helped her relaxation. She was able to shut her eyes, slow her breathing. After several minutes of doing this, Monica fell to sleep. Her house was quiet. Gabe was somewhere busying himself so as to not disturb her. Monica does not snore, but blows out heavy breathes as she sleeps.

A strand of her blonde hair falls across her nose. The hair strand does not rest on Monica’s nose as Monica is breathing, but is knocked off her nose and falls in her mouth. Monica’s eyes open. She sees the fallen hair and blows it off her mouth thinking the hair to perhaps be a fuzzy that had dropped on her. Strange though that the fuzzy looked blonde. Strange more that when Monica lowers her face she sees more of these blonde fuzzy things on her blanket. Her jaw drops before she thinks the unthinkable. Monica is afraid to but she knows she has to lift her hands out of her blanket and feel her own head. When she does this sure enough she feels not a thick head of hair, but soft patched on her scalp that move and when Monica removes her hands on her palms she sees blotches of hair. Monica wants to scream, but cannot. She tries to scream as loud as she can, but no sound comes out of her throat. She tries to move out of her bed, but cannot lift herself from her bed. She has just learned she has cancer, is mute, and paralyzed from the chest down.

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!” Monica at last is able to scream a real horrified scream and leap out of her bed. Once out she stands she runs to the mirror over her make-up vanity to look at how much hair she has left on her head. All of it. Her hair has not fallen out. It hasn’t. She had been dreaming. She holds her breast and breathes deeply, shedding tears of relief before noticing a mug sitting near the edge of her vanity. The mug is filled with tea and a tea bag setting inside it. Gabe had to have left it there for her.

Gabe is in the kitchen eating a homemade salad with ranch dressing and drinking an Arizona iced tea when he hears his mother’s scream. He rushes from the kitchen table and to her bedroom and busts through her door to find her not in her bed, but sitting at her vanity drinking the tea he made for her.

“What? I heard you scream. Why are you now sitting there?”

“I just had a nightmare, Gabe. I’m alright now.”

“Oh. You’re alright. Well, what was the dream about?”

“That my hair was falling out. Like I had cancer. And I wanted to scream about it, but I could not scream so I kept trying to scream in the dream and when the dream was over, I screamed when I woke up.”

“Really? That was one hell of a scream, Mom. You scared the hell out of me. I thought you were…..I don’t know. Being attacked or something. Or that I don’t know, had seen Gary through a window.”

Monica turned her face at Gabe and smiled with a mouthful of tea.

“’Saw Gary through a window?’”

“Yeah. That’s what I assumed.”

“I would not be scared right now if I were to see Gary. I would be overjoyed.”

“I don’t know what I’d do if I were to see him.”

“Well I hope you don’t plan on beating him up.”

“No. No. I might just have a talk with him. That’s all.”

“I like the sound of that. You and Gary hardly ever talk now.”

Gabe’s cell phone, stuck in his pants pocket, rang. Monica’s eyes lit up curious as to who could be calling. Gabe slipped out his phone to see who was calling him. He told Monica.

“It’s Lauren.” Lauren is Gabe’s girlfriend. “ Hi,babe.” Monica waved Gabe away so he could leave the room and talk to Lauren in private as he likes to always do. She finished her tea and for once, worried less about Gary or about not being in charge.

Gary watched Becci walking ahead of him with her ass careening, her ponytail whipping, and her legs just moving the way they did. She was leading him through the vacant lot of a foreclosed thrift store. The parking area was smoothly paved and very wide, at one time the lot was home to a popular Halloween store. Gary didn’t mind that he and Becci had to cross this huge lot. He had a lot on his mind and plenty for his eyes to delight in. If Gary could hope only in his life now, and not in a god, he could also put all his hope in Becci. He could worship Becci. He could listen to her, learn from her, and obey her, and be devoted to her. Realizing this was filling the hole that losing his faith in a god had left in him. Yes, when Gary said Y.O.L.O. and he had said so with all his heart he had renounced what he had believed all this life, something in him had died.

“Y.O.L.O., Gary?” Becci asked as if checking to see if Gary was not wavering back to his old beliefs.

“Y.O.—L.O.! One life Becci and it is all I or anyone has to hope for.”
“That’s my boy!” Gary did like the sound of Becci saying that in reference to him. He was her boy, her little boy. She was going to take care of him. Awesome. He had every reason now to be loyal to her. But when he kept focusing on her ponytail, something sinister came out of Gary, a devilish desire that had been lurking in him since he had first liked her hair. Gary walked a little faster behind Becci and with his other hand reached for her ponytail and grabbed at it. Becci immediately stopped walking, turned around and smacked away Gary’s hand.

“What the fuck yaw doin’?” Becci swinged from sweet to downright hostile.

“Sorry.” Gary said to her with a big, dork smile.

“I told you I can whip yaw little ass.” Becci let go of Gary’s hand, advanced toward him and punched hard at his arms and chest as he backed off.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ouch! Okay!” Gary cried out while laughing.

“Don’t be laughin’. You a asshole. Don’t ever touch me like that again. If it had been my ass you had touched, you’d be on the ground bleedin’. Understand?” Becci emphasizes that with one last punch to Gary’s stomach.

“Yes…..I………under……stand……” Gary tries to say between breathes. He is holding his stomach, almost ready to vomit. Finally, he spits and feels better. “You’re one tough girl. I won’t touch you like that---again. Fuck no.”

“Oh, I’ve beaten the shit out of my boyfriend many times—-“

“Wait! You have a boyfriend?”

“—--so many times my boyfriend has tried to manhandle me and I’ve been the one to show him who’s boss, who’s on top.”

“I thought you had no boyfriend. I thought that I was your…..”

“We’re going to my boyfriend’s house.”

“We are?” Gary raised the brows over his eyes and froze in his tracks. Becci tried to grab at his hand again, but Gary pulled his hand away.

“Come on, asshole.” Becci took Gary’s hand. He gave her a limp, unwilling hand. She was still tripping about her fighting exploits. She took another swig of the vodka before she began to tell Gary of her back story.

“I live with dad, Gary or used to. My dad is the biggest asshole, the biggest. Ya want to know how I was born?”


“My dad and my ma were boyfriend and girlfriend, they never got married, they were drinkin’ it up and shootin’ it up in a shitty house they rented. My dad paid rent by sellin’ H. That night, they got to kissin’ and almost to fuckin’ around when my dad decided to get rough with my ma and he ya know---“

“Raped her? You’re—“

“That’s right. I’m the child of a rape.”

“Becci! I’m so sorry.”

“Stop saying ‘Sorry’. It sounds fake. Are you a faker?”

“No, she didn’t die you dipshit. How do you think I was born?”

Becci was born a beautiful baby girl to her mother at a hospital, but under very pitiful circumstances. Her father had been so caught up in selling his drugs that while her mother was screaming while in labor, her father yelled at one of his customers to drive Becci’s mother to a hospital because he could not stand to hear her screams. The mother gave birth to Becci without the father caring to be there.

“Your own dad didn’t want to be there when you were born?”

“See what I mean when I said he is the world’s biggest asshole?”

“But why do you stay with him then?”

“Shut up, Gary! I mean just shut up and listen!”

Becci was not raised well by her mother either. Her mother wanted to drink and shoot up the heroin with Becci’s father. Perhaps even sicker, Becci’s mother wanted to be physically abused by Becci’s father. It is uncertain if Becci’s mother liked being raped by her boyfriend, but the sexual assaulting did continue until Becci’s father finally choked her to death. He may have dismembered her body, buried her body somewhere, or had her body driven in a car to a bridge and thrown into a river. It is unknown what truly happened to Becci’s mother, but her father knows. Her father told her that her mother just left him for another man. Her mother told Becci long before she disappeared that her father had raped her and that is how she became pregnant with her.

So when little Becci learned her mother was never coming back, she did not cry. She had gotten used to the fighting between her parents. Had seen the bruises on her mother’s eyes, face, and body. But little Becci did tell herself this: I ain’t going to let my dad rape me. I is going to learn to fight so I can fight my sick daddy off. And that’s what little Becci did. With her sick Dad always busy selling his drugs, Becci was free to run out of his house to roam the streets. The streets would become Becci’s new home and her schooling. Becci learned to fight first from fighting back against neighborhood boys who would pick on her. Sure she was given black eyes, fat lips, and her teeth were broken a few times thus explaining the way they look today. But over the years of being hurt, Becci grew to be unafraid of fighting and developed a love and a skill for it.

It was when she was thirteen that Becci started showing large breasts and a shapely figure. This is when her father began to take notice of her. Becci was privy to this and when at home, would always hide from her perverted father in her bedroom. After binging on whiskey and heroin one night, Becci’s father was stumbling up the stairway to the second floor. Becci could hear him coming up. She did not lock her bedroom door though. She was waiting for him to barge in while sitting on her bed with her fists ready. It was late that day. Night was creeping on and the winds blew a tree branch outside against Becci’s window which casted lurking shadows over Becci and her bed.

Becci’s father did not bust his way into her room. He more wanted to creep his way in. By slowly opening her bedroom door, her father was planning to terrify Becci with his wide eyes and predator face and malicious laughter. He was all about enjoying the terror he inflicted. Becci faced him sitting on her bed. Oh, she was crying alright. Tears were falling from her grim eyes, the lips of her mouth were pressed together, her fists were raised for she was ready to fight her father even if she was much smaller than him.

Becci’s drunk and drugged up father can barely see her. His vision is so blurry, but what he sees of his daughter is a small sexual toy just ripe enough to gratify him right at that moment. He can hardly walk to her bed, but he can reach his long arms toward her sitting on the bed. Suddenly, he feels two small fists hitting his hands at an insanely wild speed. His fingers feel the pain from being hit by the wild fists. The whiskey in him makes him belligerent so he makes two fists and swings back at Becci. She quickly leaps off her bed and runs under her father pushing his big legs back making him fall to the floor. Once he is down, Becci kicks him in his side making her father yowl with pain.

“Did you leave him after that?” Gary asks.

“I did run away. I left and went on the streets living at the homes of some of my friends. But I had to move back because of some of the bullshit I went through at my friends’ houses. I couldn’t get a long anywhere. I needed a home to sleep in. That’s why I keep coming back to ‘the biggest asshole’. Thing is: he always tried to rape me and I always end up beating his ass.”

“How come?”

“Because stupid, my sick dad’s pissed that I can always beat his ass and stop him from raping me. He can’t get over that. That simple.”

Years went on, Becci is seventeen. She is stealing her own make-up and clothing and dressing herself up very sexy. Her father is very enticed by her and jealous that she has boyfriends whom she is fucking. Becci comes home one Sunday morning after a night of partying to find her father on the couch drunk and drugged up like always.

“You think you can just walk in here? After selling your body to every boy who gives you a drink, a smoke, and a hit?” he charges at her. Then her father stands up from the couch and this time he runs at Becci remembering the first time she beat his ass. Not wanting to let her win this time. He breaks his whiskey bottle on the table by the couch. She will give in to him or get cut.

“Oh, fuck you. Fuck you. You only live to get sloppy drunk and to shoot yourself up shit-faced.” Becci sees the broken bottle, but is not scared. She will use her legs this time. She will kick. Becci steps to her father and with a highly drawn kick of her leg knocks the broken bottle out of her father’s hand.

“What were you gonna do? Cut me with that?” Becci says now telling her father he is in deep shit. Her father is actually a little scared now. Becci jacks her father directly in the nose. He screams. She hits him in the mouth three times until she breaks a number of his teeth. Next, she aims for his jaw. This is it! Becci is showing no mercy. Her father lowers his head, bends forward and covers his head with his hands to avert any more punches from Becci. She in turn starts wailing on the back of his head. It is as if she is in a berserker mode just loving hitting her father and the fact he will not fight back. Finally, Becci’s father puts his hands up pleading to Becci to stop.

“Alright. I promise to never touch you again. And will you leave? Please. Leave the house. Please. You shouldn’t live here.” Her father made the plea with a mouth full of blood.

“I did leave.” Becci tells Gary, her eyes lost in a spell as she thinks back to that morning, this morning. “Then I went to the park to cool off. Right now, I have no home. No place to live.”

“So that’s where we are going? To find you a place to live?”

“Maybe find us a place to stay. Ain’t you a runaway?”

“Yeah. I am. My mom was suffocating me. So I ran away. But---“

“But you want to be with me now, right Gary?” Becci went up to Gary real close and looked him in the eyes so close their noses were touching.

“Yes.” Gary received another kiss from Becci. “And you have no boyfriend?”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“You do have a boyfriend?”

“You’re my boyfriend, asshole. If I kiss you, you’re my boyfriend. Now quit worryin’ and help me finish this vodka so we can get’s to where’s we got’s to go.”

“Okay. Gimme the vodka.”

“That’s my fella.” Becci hands Gary the bottle of Absolut. Gary takes the bottle and takes a big swallow. He feels the burn and makes a painful face before he feels a spell of intense tipsiness. So intense is this spell he loses his balance.

“Whoa! That’s some vodka.”

Becci is laughing.

“Drink some more.”

“I don’t want to drink it all.”

“I told you to quit worrying.”

Gary drinks from the bottle again. This time not as much as before. He does not like how the vodka goes down. Oh, how it singes his insides, but he looks forward to the effect that makes his head spin, gives him that funny elation. There it is. Oh yeah! That elation. That good, dizzying feeling.

“I’m a virgin. Are you gonna---“

“Gary, I want you to not say one more fucking word and not drink one more drop.” Becci takes the bottle of Absolut from now uninhibited Gary and grabs him by his head of hair.

“Oooohhhhhhhh!!!” Gary whined playfully.

They reached the end of the parking area and the vacant lot and were facing a parkway divided by an island. Becci decided it’d be best to let go of Gary’s hair and take his hand again instead. There was just a little left in the bottle of Absolut. She told Gary they would wait to cross after she finished the bottle. She tipped her head back and drank what was left of the vodka then handed the bottle to Gary.

“Toss that.”

Gary took the bottle and swung his arm back as far as he could. Then he flung it into the air. He and Becci watched the bottle revolve in circles as it flew high past a thin layer of clouds under the midday sun. The bottle fell onto the pavement of the vacant lot shattering into a dozen fragments.

“You did good.” Becci said smacking Gary’s butt with her free hand. Another first. Her smacking felt nice, the way it reverberated through him.

Continue Reading Next Chapter

About Us

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered publisher, providing a platform to discover hidden talents and turn them into globally successful authors. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books our readers love most on our sister app, GALATEA and other formats.