BORN EVIL

Eryka met Monica half way down the long hallway a gentle and cautious determination in her steps. Carefully choosing her words because she knew though Kim’s wounds may have scabs Monica’s were still very fresh. “Seriously Monica all blame aside, considering where we come from and what we have loss I don’t think that I will be able to forgive Kim this time.” “Seriously Eryka it’s impossible for me to put blame aside, but Kim some-how managed. She still unfairly feels some responsibility for the hell we’ve been through so I don’t think that she would be able to forgive herself, she heard you.” “Yeah, she heard me, but will she listen?” Irritation and contempt now erupted in Monica’s voice, “Yes she will listen. I have to go, love you. Move in one direction!” Eryka did not feel that Monica’s words of affection were sincere, but routine and that hurt more than anything, more than if she had not said it at all. “Love you too, Monica. Move in one direction! Monica?” “What!” “I really do love you and I hope that we could one day work through this.” Monica did not respond though she extended Eryka the courtesy to stand and listen to what she had to say, but Monica’s body language told Eryka that she did not have much time to speak her peace, then without a word Monica opened and closed the door behind her. Sitting in traffic frustrated, Kim could not get what Eryka said off her mind. Her palms became sweaty and the cool car felt sweltering hot as she looked at the next exit ramp half mile ahead. “I will not let him win, I will not let him win,” she kept repeating and crying to herself and gripping the steering wheel of her new black BMW, as traffic began to slowly move. Kim cautiously reached out to turn off the heat she never turned on. She could feel the panic setting in. “I can beat this, I will beat this… I will beat him, again taking a deep breath…. I have to!” Kim looked in her rearview mirror and froze…”oh my GOD not again she screamed!” “I ought to kill you I have that right you know, but I won’t, I promise, but I ought to coming in my house with a shot gun. What if I just shot you in the arm, you think the ambulance would make it waaaaaay out here in time? Slowly swaying the gun he tauntingly asked Mr. Jenningson “What if I shot you in the hand? Put your hand up let me see if I am still a good shot. His words slurring just like his stance if not more. “You think I could hit just that big toe on your right foot? Well I’m not as good a shot as I used to be I need a bigger target and that right leg looks to be just… about… the right size. He aimed, drank desperately from his flask, repositioned Mr. Jenningson’s heavy shot gun under his arm, pulled the trigger and Mr. Jenningson fell. Mr. Hargrove stood over Mr. Jenningson with the tip of his boot in the pool of blood that poured out from where Mr. Jenningson’s leg used to be. Monica’s Dad continued swaying his body, gun and slurring his words, “I have never been good at keeping promises, so I lied, somewhat. Let me see you farm now, coming to my house, with your shot gun, in my business. Always coming over here thinking you are better than me, who do you think you are? Telling my wife to take care of herself as if I can’t take care of my own family, let me see you take care of your crops now, how quickly will you run to their aide next time or them to yours now that you need them? Good luck with keeping your family alive, holding on to that farm and that hot ass woman of yours. Now that you’re half the man you use to be she won’t be around long, tell her to look me up!” Looking over his shoulder with a drunken snarl his words continued to slur. “I’ve got no use for this one right here, she’s just useless. Look at her!”