Three's A Crowd

The Kerrigan household has always been rocky. Constant screaming, constant drinking, constant crying. My father an angry drunk, and my mother an emotional one. I, on the other hand, am more of a giddy drunk. The Kerrigans, ladies and gentlemen! A household of drunks!

“Jezebel!” My mother screamed from the top of the stairs, swearing when she spilled her wine. Being in no mood to put up with her shit, I headed for my window.

Sarabela Kerrigan, being the emotional drunk she is, lectures her children when she's had one too many. Pretending to care about your life, pretending to love you. Sarabela doesn't care for anyone other than herself. I suppose that’s where I got my nonchalance from. My violence, on the other hand...

“Sara!” And in stormed Cooper Kerrigan. Figuratively, of course, considering I still couldn't see either of them. They stood at the top of the stairs screaming at each other over a jar of peanut butter. Of all things, peanut butter. Apparently their three children were nothing when peanut butter was involved.

Slipping on a pair of tattered converse, and pulling on a slightly faded cardigan, I climbed onto my dressed. After pushing my window open and climbing through it, I saw Junior running down the street in the opposite direction I was headed. We used to be close, Junior and I, but we stopped talking years ago. He never looked at me as his older sister anymore. To him, I was nothing more than a family failure. It was bound to happen, considering my home life. I have a slight sneaking suspicion that the only reason I'm still alive is because of my best friend, Evangeline Cooke.

After about twenty minutes of mindless wandering, I found myself in front of Eva's house. Sure, she wouldn't be surprised to see me when she opens the door, but that doesn't mean her parents want me there. Do I care? Nope.

I hummed under my breath as I walked up the short path to the front door, laughing lightly at the house. I couldn't fully understand what was so funny. It was a nice house; large enough to fit a family much larger than Eva's. Upper middle class my ass. I have no idea what he parents do, but whatever it is, it works...

I knocked on the door loudly, shuffling my feet in my impatient waiting. When Eva finally opened the door, all of maybe thirty seconds later, she merely raised an eyebrow and moved to the side, so as to let me in.

“Well hello to you, too. I am so fucking loved, I swear, sometimes it just smothers me.” Again all she did was raise an eyebrow and smile lightly at me. I hardly noticed the slight shake of her head, and the small laugh as she made her way to the stairs.

“Seriously, Eva! You might have to hold back a little, let me breathe! Love me less, eh?” I grinned at the back of her head after saluting her father mockingly. I had never bothered to learn their names, considering they still never got my name right. I am not a Jessica! I don't even look like one! I am Jezebel. Jezebel Kerrigan. Apparently too hard of a name to remember.

“Should I even ask what it is they did this time?” Eva asked, pushing open the door to her hideous room.

“You can ask, sure, but we're going to my room to talk about it.” I shuddered at the mere thought of all the pink. Glaring slightly at me, Eva waved me on down the hallway.

“Fine, sure, whatever, go ahead.” I laughed at her annoyed face as I skipped down the hallway towards my room. Well, the guest room, but since I practically live her, I pretty much have claim on it. Not that Eva's parent are all too thrilled about that, but they have never cared enough to force me to leave. Well, other than that one time...

“So. You were saying?” Snapping me out of my happy reminiscing, Eva plopped down on the bed. The too tan bed... The room had a very obvious earth tone theme going on. It used to bother me. Now I could care less. It's a comfortable bed. That's all I really need.

“Oh right. I'm less important than peanut butter.” Once upon a time, she would have thought that weird. Now, though, she was used to my parents. She never met them, I would never willingly subject her to that, but she had heard stories. Horror stories, she would think them, but she hears the watered down version of my home life. “When I left, I saw Junior running off, too.” I threw myself onto my bed, sighing in contentment. It was so soft !

“Where does he go when he leaves? Does he have his very own Eva?” I don't think she knows just how dirty that sounds...

“Nah. He just goes to the crack house.”

“What!?” Eva, now on her feet, looked so shocked it almost shocked me . Almost. It would have years ago, yeah, but now? Not so much. “And you never stopped him!? What the hell is wrong with you!?” She picked up a pillow and started beating me with it. My laughter only seemed to make her angrier, and that in itself made me laugh harder.

“Eva! I'm kidding!”

“Jezebel! That was not funny!” She had dropped the pillow, and now had her arms crossed firmly across her chest, looking like a mother scolding her child. The thought made me feel like a child being scolded by their mother. Sometimes, I shouldn't think. It's potentially dangerous, and inflicts unwanted emotions. In this case, shame. Not an overly pleasant emotion...

“Evangeline! It sort of was!” I shouted back mockingly, crossing my arms over my chest. She didn't seem all that pleased with me. “Or, it would have been if you were less, you know...” I waved my hand around looking for the right word, widening my eyes and tilting my head when I got closer to fining it. Ignorant? No... “Innocent!” I exclaimed victoriously. My shame was overpowered by my pride. God, I'm a loser...

“Oh, pfsht!” Eva plopped back down on the bed beside me. We sat in silence for a while before I noticed her staring at me. I tried to raise an eyebrow at her, but I knew both went up.

“Yes?” Eva looked as though she didn't really wasn't to ask, but I waved her on.

“Are you alright? They didn't...hit you or anything, did they?” Again, I tried to raise an eyebrow. Again, I failed.

“Nope. Didn't seem to want to. Dad was too worried about the peanut butter.” Yes, he used to hit me, but that had stopped a while back. In the time I have known Eva, my father only laid his hands on me once.

“Okay, good. Now, other than that, you're fine, too, and all that jazz?” Stumbling awkwardly over her words, Eva ran a hand through her hair. She had never really been all that great at asking about a persons emotions, or anything emotionally related. It's one of the things I'm aiming to fix about her overly shy personality.

“Wording, Eva.” I muttered, plucking fuzz off my jeans. “Fix it.”

“Emotionally, are you sound?” She sounded a bit more sure of herself, but still stumbled slightly over her words. It would go unnoticed by most, but I am not most. And I am awesome. With a small smile, I pretended to think. The answer would be the same, even if it was a lie.

“Peachy keen, Eves!” She hates it when I call her that. Exactly why I do. I threw an innocent smile at her before pointing to the large TV in the corner of the room. “Your assistance is needed! I need entertainment!”

Grudgingly, Eva stood from her spot. Another thing I had been trying to fix: Evangeline Cooke is a bit of a pushover. People pleaser, twenty-four seven! Her parents can be thanked for that. They tried to raise a saint. They got Eva. And as much of a pushover as she was, and as much as I was trying to fix that, it was saving me from moving my lazy ass. I have no complaints with that.

“What do you want to watch?” Flopping far less that gracefully onto the ground in front of the entertainment system, Eva began shifting through the DVDs, obvious boredom clearly displayed on her face.

“Breakfast Club? That is the one with the guy screaming loud enough to break glass right? I love that part...” Eva nodded, now excited, and snatched the DVD from it's resting place. After forcefully shoving it into the player, she ran back over to the bed. “Bit forceful there, weren't you Eves? I didn't know you liked it like that...”

Eva, being the corrupt girl she is, looked at me strangely. Sarcastic thoughts... they are impossible to get rid of. I've tried. “Like what forceful?”

I would have laughed if it wasn't so sad... Instead I resorted to snorting and rolling my eyes.

“Seriously, Jez! I don't get it!” Whining and scrunching up her face, Eva threw a pillow at me in an attempt to get me to tell her. I raised my eyebrows at her for what felt like the millionth time.

“You really want to know?” I asked cautiously, again raising my eyebrows.

“Yes! Just tell me!” She threw another pillow at me. I laughed lightly before finally answering her.

“I was implying that you like it hard. 'It' as in sex.” I paused for a moment, purely for dramatic effect. “Are you a dominatrix?” And because she really had no idea what that meant, and she had no more pillows left, she resorted to button mashing the remote. Stubborn little two year old...

“Fine!” I yelled, knowing that if I didn't tell her I would never get to see the lame dancing of pure awesomeness. “A dominatrix is a woman who sexually dominates her partner. With bondage, and stuff like that. You know... Kinky stuff.” Now looking sufficiently awkward, Eva pressed the play button on the remote.

“Oh...” Again, she sounded awkward.

“I warned you.” I shrugged as Eva glared at me.

It's good to be home...