Just Like Queens

I didn’t set my alarm this morning. Screw them. I didn’t feel like waking up today. But of course, why would I think they would let me sleep past 7?

“Wake up!” she hollered, adding a ‘now’ for good measure. I sighed and rolled out of bed.

“Darling,” she started, “what would make you think today would be different from any other day?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, “I heard a lot of screaming from your room last night. I was hoping it was you dying but I guess you were just having sex with some random stranger again.”

She put her hand over her eyes and heaved a sigh. “You know, Alice, you really hurt my feelings when you say such terrible things to me.”

Then she whipped her hand from behind her back and punched me in the stomach. I doubled over and she patted my head, telling me to take a shower so that I could make her breakfast.

I made my way to the shower, thinking of new and eccentric ways to murder her. But why do that and then waste the rest of my life in jail?

After my shower, I went to my room and got dressed. I went downstairs and started her breakfast.

“What are you singing?”

I turned to seemy mother Marge, standing in the doorway.

“A song,” I said slowly, as if she were stupid.

She glared at me and I sighed, “Daughters by John Mayer.”

“Well it’s a sad song so I’d rather you didn’t sing it,” she said slowly.

“I like it,” I said. “I think it’s a message to parents. It’s telling them to be kind to their children, daughters especially, because it will ruin them. It will make them be unable to trust people, even if that person is someone who loves them and is willing to wait for that girl to love them back.”

Her expression was livid. “You’re an ungrateful child.”

I turned around and started singing the song again.

Then she screamed and hit me.

I had had enough. I ran up to my room and packed my bags. I grabbed everything I could. I took the bags and threw them out the window. I grabbed my keys and ran downstairs.

“Where do you think you’re going?!” she shrieked.

“Marge,” I said turning to look at her, “I’m leaving.”

“You are not,” she said as she advanced towards me.

Wrong move, Marge.

As soon as she was close enough, I punched her right in the face.

I mentally thanked Shane for teaching me to fight.

“You will not touch me,” I began, “hit me, or even speak to me ever again.”

She looked at me in astonishment as I walked out the door.

As I drove, I played Daughters on my stereo system. As I listen to the song, a memory began to play inside my head…

Shane was sitting on his bed, strumming his guitar.

“I know this song!” I yelled excitedly. It was one of my very favorites.

He smiled and began singing Daughters. I sang with him, our voices melting together perfectly.

Then I began crying, and asking him if I was hard to love because of what Marge and Karl had done to me. He had stroked my hair and told me no. Then I asked if he thought I would be a terrible mother. He told me no again, and that I would be the best mother in the world.

In my mind’s eye, I pictured the little girl I yearned for. Isabella Charlotte or Charlotte Isabella, I could never decide. She would have his blue eyes, maybe my hair…

I hadn’t realized I had pulled over to the side of the road. Then I realized I had no idea where to go.

When I finally decided, I silently prayed that she would be there. I would tell her my plan and take her back to her house tonight so that she can pack her bags, too.

Oh Lydia, please don’t think I’m crazy. Please come with me.