In the End

J'ai Confiance en Moi

She'd like black, and she does now, but she remembers how Charles was so impressed with her for liking it and not pink like other girls. He'd told her he'd like her dark edge, the shine of a blade in the night, cool and untouchable, and yet, desirable.

She liked pink too, but after he'd commented that, she hid that fact for a long time.

She looks at the two shirts, and then grabs the pink one. She walks down a few aisles before coming back and grabbing the black one too, because she liked both of them, and she deserves it.

There is a lock of Alice's hair still in her purse, and when she realizes that this is yet another thing she'd hidden from Charles, she hurts. She doesn't know which hurts more, the way she'd let herself be imprisoned to a so called love for so long, or the way that she still loved him now. She still felt that lingering desire when the night came.

Sometimes, she holds her children at night, but soon they will be too old to want to sleep next to her, and too young to understand why she needs the company.

Alice could have been a third child. But of course, Chucky had not liked that idea. He had made it clear from the very beginning. She had done her best to remain at a distance, to not open a motherly heart, but it happened, nonetheless, the way most things do. Naturally and yet so against the human will. Alice was a sweet girl, willing and compliant, and became such a comfort to her when nothing else seemed to help. And now she was gone. Another source of joy drained away from her in a desperate attempt to appease her true love.

Love took commitment, she knows, but she also knows that it was always her putting in the work. There was only half of the commitment occurring.

Glenda needs new shoes, even though she protested all week that she does not. Glenda loves those old things; she's scribbled on them and dirtied them with many of her own wild adventures. There is a hole where the toe rubs up against the inside of the left shoe, and they are stained beyond repair. Tiffany does not want to take those shoes from her, but she buys another pair, just in case Glenda changes her mind.

Glenda has been changing her mind about a lot of things. Glen has as well.

Chucky – Charles- wouldn't approve. He didn't approve of a lot of things their children thought or said, and the more they argued, the more frightened she became, although she hid it well. Charles had always called her his missing piece, the only one worthy of him – but he rarely ever showed it, the longer they were together. In fact, soon even his words left her feeling not worthy at all, let alone worthy of him. She stopped taking the risks to bring it up; he never listened, and she always felt as if she had overreacted, had over thought. Had been weak, like her mother.

He had never liked her mother, and she had never known why. She hadn't cried when he killed her, although, to be fair, she never really let her mother die. She wonders if that is why Charles had begun to hate her too – because he'd seen her mother in her.

She makes her way to the register, wondering what she will do today, the same way she does every day. She has an appointment later, but that is a couple of hours from now, and her children will not be home from school until later as well. The shopping trip is not long enough, and even though she left the house and got some fresh air, a part of her still feels like she has yet to take a breath today.

"Cash or card?" the cashier asks. For a moment, it feels as if she is finally breathing, and she's only speaking with a cashier, the same way any other person would, on any given day. And yet her heart pulses for the desire of something out of the ordinary to happen.

Chucky – Charles, Charles – had always given her excitement, but it was toxic. She knew this, she knows this. But she still wants anyways.

She's packing her car, just throwing the few bags into the seat next to her, and she's wondering if she should have gotten Glen something as well. But she certainly doesn't know what to get him. She still feels as new to motherhood as if the twins had just been bored. She hadn't had her mother to help her, she had no friends of any kind. She has no friends of any kind. She'd only had Charles, and she had pushed everyone away to be with him, and now she had to pay the price. Cash or card, Tiff? she asks herself, and she can hear his voice saying it, taunting her even now.