Meant to Be
2
Meowing cats, the sound of scurrying rats, and screaming families in nearby apartments were the closest thing I would get to music. Without something to entertain me, I realized that this trip would be longer than I thought. I had a CD player once. Don't ask me where it is.
It felt like it took about three hours just to get out of my neighborhood. It was quieter in the suburbs, and nicer to look at. It didn't stay quiet for long though.
A 1990 Mazda Miata swerved through the block, hitting mail boxes on the way, and screeched to a stop at house I happened to be directly in front of. A woman got out of the drivers side and slammed the car door, causing the entire car to shake. Her black hair was disheveled, she wore brown sweat pants with holes in them, and gray gym shoes that were probably white once. The thing that caught my attention most though, was the fact that she had no shirt on. Just her old lace bra. She looked around furiously until she laid her eyes on me and glared.
"ARE YOU HER!?" My eyes widened, and I probably should have ran but I didn't.
"I'm…no?" It was all I could get out.
"YOU'RE HER AREN'T YOU!?" She stomped over to me smelling of alcohol, and before I could really comprehend what was happening, her fist came in contact with my eye.
"OW! WHAT THE HELL!?" I was on the ground, holding my eye in pain. I felt like I'd entered the Twilight Zone.
"That's right bitch! HE'S GONNA LEAVE YOU!" I looked at her with the good eye I had left.
I heard the front door of the house behind us open, and a man, woman, and little boy came out to the scene.
"What's going on? Who are you peop--" the man stopped mid-sentence when he saw the crazy lady that just socked me a good one.
"THERE YOU ARE!" She stomped around me to the man and his wife, and I just watched. "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO LEAVE HER!"
The man just gulped and covered his son's ears.
"Honey, what's going on?" his wife asked. She tried to sound calm, but you could hear the tenseness in her voice.
"I…" Normally I wouldn't have helped a guy like him. He cheated on his wife with a crazy bitch and now it's blowing up in his face. But something compelled me to intervene.
"MOM!" Everyone standing on the lawn looked at me suddenly, looks of confusion plastered on their faces. I stood and grabbed the topless woman's arm.
"This…is your mother?" The man's wife asked.
"Yes. Yes it is. She has a terrible drinking problem and when she gets really bad, she drives to anonymous families' houses in the nice neighborhoods, claiming to be the husband's mistress. I tried to follow her and stop it this time, but she got violent."
"Oh, you poor girl. You must call Child Services," the wife said, looking genuinely worried.
"Oh, ma'am. Don't worry about me," I replied.
"WHO THE FUCK--"
"MOM! SHHH! You know you're not supposed to be drinking." I looked at the family. "She's delusional."
"There must be something we could do," the wife said, putting her hand on her chest.
"Well…there is something," I said, looking at her husband. He was sweating like a pig.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Well…my mother and I are about to get kicked out of our apartment because we don't have rent," I said, looking down.
"Oh my. Walter! Give the poor girl some money! How much is it dear?" she asked.
"It's…six hundred and fifty dollars," I said, trying to sound pathetic.
"Walter! Help the girl!" she said, snapping at her husband again. He stared at me, completely aware that I was lying, but handed me the money anyway, grateful that his balls weren't busted in front of his family.
"Thank you nice people so much," I said, pulling the woman to her car. She wasn't saying anything because she was on the verge of passing out. I put her in the passenger seat and got on the driver's side. The man's wife waved as I drove off.
That was probably one of the best ideas I have ever thought up. I have money now. I also have a car; at least until the topless mistress in the passenger seat regains consciousness.
It felt like it took about three hours just to get out of my neighborhood. It was quieter in the suburbs, and nicer to look at. It didn't stay quiet for long though.
A 1990 Mazda Miata swerved through the block, hitting mail boxes on the way, and screeched to a stop at house I happened to be directly in front of. A woman got out of the drivers side and slammed the car door, causing the entire car to shake. Her black hair was disheveled, she wore brown sweat pants with holes in them, and gray gym shoes that were probably white once. The thing that caught my attention most though, was the fact that she had no shirt on. Just her old lace bra. She looked around furiously until she laid her eyes on me and glared.
"ARE YOU HER!?" My eyes widened, and I probably should have ran but I didn't.
"I'm…no?" It was all I could get out.
"YOU'RE HER AREN'T YOU!?" She stomped over to me smelling of alcohol, and before I could really comprehend what was happening, her fist came in contact with my eye.
"OW! WHAT THE HELL!?" I was on the ground, holding my eye in pain. I felt like I'd entered the Twilight Zone.
"That's right bitch! HE'S GONNA LEAVE YOU!" I looked at her with the good eye I had left.
I heard the front door of the house behind us open, and a man, woman, and little boy came out to the scene.
"What's going on? Who are you peop--" the man stopped mid-sentence when he saw the crazy lady that just socked me a good one.
"THERE YOU ARE!" She stomped around me to the man and his wife, and I just watched. "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO LEAVE HER!"
The man just gulped and covered his son's ears.
"Honey, what's going on?" his wife asked. She tried to sound calm, but you could hear the tenseness in her voice.
"I…" Normally I wouldn't have helped a guy like him. He cheated on his wife with a crazy bitch and now it's blowing up in his face. But something compelled me to intervene.
"MOM!" Everyone standing on the lawn looked at me suddenly, looks of confusion plastered on their faces. I stood and grabbed the topless woman's arm.
"This…is your mother?" The man's wife asked.
"Yes. Yes it is. She has a terrible drinking problem and when she gets really bad, she drives to anonymous families' houses in the nice neighborhoods, claiming to be the husband's mistress. I tried to follow her and stop it this time, but she got violent."
"Oh, you poor girl. You must call Child Services," the wife said, looking genuinely worried.
"Oh, ma'am. Don't worry about me," I replied.
"WHO THE FUCK--"
"MOM! SHHH! You know you're not supposed to be drinking." I looked at the family. "She's delusional."
"There must be something we could do," the wife said, putting her hand on her chest.
"Well…there is something," I said, looking at her husband. He was sweating like a pig.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Well…my mother and I are about to get kicked out of our apartment because we don't have rent," I said, looking down.
"Oh my. Walter! Give the poor girl some money! How much is it dear?" she asked.
"It's…six hundred and fifty dollars," I said, trying to sound pathetic.
"Walter! Help the girl!" she said, snapping at her husband again. He stared at me, completely aware that I was lying, but handed me the money anyway, grateful that his balls weren't busted in front of his family.
"Thank you nice people so much," I said, pulling the woman to her car. She wasn't saying anything because she was on the verge of passing out. I put her in the passenger seat and got on the driver's side. The man's wife waved as I drove off.
That was probably one of the best ideas I have ever thought up. I have money now. I also have a car; at least until the topless mistress in the passenger seat regains consciousness.