Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Penny stared at me but she didn’t seem to make the connection.
“I’d recognize those eyes anywhere. She’s one of his spawns.” Fear and disgust played out on his face, fighting a battle for which was the stronger emotion.
Penny seemed to know exactly who the word “his” referred to. Her eyes grew wide and she started tracing the words of her tattoos like a spell that would give her consolation.
I glanced down to where my mother was struggling to get into a sitting position. The strap of her flimsy nightgown slipped off her bony shoulder and the neckline plunged. I leaned over and helped her to lean up against the headboard before I put her strap back in place. Her brown eyes darted over my face and panicked recognition settled in them.
Mom glanced down at herself like she only realized the sorry state she was in and her face crumpled. I wrapped my arm around her back and pulled her up to her feet, taking care that the nightgown covered her.
“Come on, Mom. We’ll get you cleaned up.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve pissed in the bed again,” Stanley growled.
“One more word,” I said harshly. “And I swear I’ll call my father and have him take this place down.” I couldn’t do that. At least not without rendering myself to him. And even then, I wasn’t sure he cared about me enough—or at all—to do me any favors.
But from the terror on Stanley’s face, he believed I could. I relished the feeling of triumph, but my mother grew heavier in my arms, her legs giving way.
“Is there an antidote to whatever she’s on?” I asked.
Stanley glared at me, but Penny replied. “Yes. I can pick up a vial.” She quickly slipped out of the room and he followed her without another word.
Devon came up beside my mother and me. “Do you want me to help?” His eyes were soft and sad, but also pitiful.
“No,” I whispered. “I can do this alone.” I could tell that he didn’t believe me. “Really.” I said firmly.
Penny returned with a tiny plastic vial. “Just make her drink this, and then she should be back to normal within a few minutes.”
I took the vial and pushed it into my pocket. “Where’s the bathroom?”
Penny opened a small door beside the wardrobe. I led my mother inside. There wasn’t much room. The seams between the white tiles were yellowed and partly black with mold. There was a shower cubicle, a toilet and a sink, which left a center space with hardly enough room for my mother and me to stand. Penny hovered in the door, uncertainty coloring her face.
“I don’t need help,” I said again, loud enough so Devon could hear it too. He seemed reluctant to let me deal with this by myself. “If you want to help, could you please get some clean clothes for my mother?”
Penny snapped out of her stupor and nodded resolutely. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” With that, she closed the door and left me alone with my mother.
My mom still hadn’t said a word to me yet. Maybe there wasn’t anything to say. I closed the toilet lid and made her sit down on top of it. Only when I was sure that she wouldn’t topple over did I let her go. I tilted her head back and brought the vial to her lips. She gulped down the liquid without protest. She was probably used to being given the antidote. Who knew how often she’d overdosed Spittle or whatever else they sold around here.
I pulled the shower curtain back—it was clammy and yellowed—and rinsed the floor of the shower with hot water. From the corner of my eye I could see my mother watching me. Her head was still bowed but I could feel her eyes on me through the fringe of her eyelashes. Maybe it was my imagination but her eyes already looked less dazed than moments before.
“I’ll help you undress now, okay?” I said.
She didn’t react and I took it as silent permission. I was glad that she was wearing only her nightgown and panties. She let me pull the gown over her head and even raised her arms on her own. Our eyes locked as I threw the garment to the ground.
“You’ve grown,” she whispered. Her voice was like broken glass, but at least she was talking and her words were intelligible.
I didn’t know what to say, so I reached for her last piece of clothing, but she shook her head.
“No. I-I…” She trailed off, embarrassment twisting her hollow cheeks.
I stepped back, bumping against the door to give her room. Her movements were clumsy and slow, and as she bent over to push her underwear past her knees, she almost fell forward. But I didn’t embarrass her by helping her any further. She gripped the edge of the tiled shower cubicle and slowly stepped inside. She leaned against the dirty tiles, face drawn from exhaustion.