The Evil Within Us

Kasandra

On a sunny day in California, Kasandra Woodsen sits motionless at her sewing table. Deeply frowning, chin in hand, staring at what she once had considered to be her nicest blouse. She'd been making a go at it for nearly half an hour with ridiculously poor results. Her Mother, (practically a sewing afficionado) had recently decided that it was important for her to learn.

"Every woman should know how to sew. Saves money, and Jesus knows how tight we are on money."

Her mother had been teaching her for an hour every night for the past month and yet she still couldn't seem to get the hang of it.

Feeling discouraged, she scoots her chair back and away from the table and lets out a defeated sigh. From downstairs she can hear her Mother singing what she proclaimed several times lately to be her favorite hymn.

"When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O abide with meee."

Kasandra never really cared for that one. In fact she had come to hate it. She herself preferred 'In The Garden', It was pretty and her Mother used to sing it to her as a child sometimes before bed, or whenever she got sick.

Taking one more glance at the sewing machine, she decides she's better off just asking her Mother to mend it for her, otherwise she'd probably end up doing more harm than good. She removes the blouse from the table and folds it neatly over her arm. As she leaves her room and begins to descend down the stairs her Mother hears her coming.

"Kass, dear?"

She turns the corner, entering the kitchen and sees that the ingredients for her mothers world famous biscuits have been laid out onto the kitchen table. (Not really world famous so much as Gospel Lighthouse Pentecostal Church of God famous)

"Biscuits with supper tonight, Mother?"

She had turned her attention away from Kasandra and was now rummaging through the cabinets. "More like biscuits for supper. But..." she pauses, now turning around to find her daughter holding the blouse she'd insisted on fixing herself.

"But what, Mother?"

"...But it seems we're out of flour. Would you mind walking down to Joes and picking some up?"

Joes was the little market around the corner she and her Mother did most of their shopping at. It was convenient how close it was considering they didn't own a car.

"Sure. Money's where it always is?"

Of course it was, she knew that. But yet every time her Mother sent her off to run an errand that required use of money she couldn't help but ask, even though she knew she shouldn't.

"Top drawer, wrapped in your fathers ties. You ask me every time and every time I tell you the same thing."

Her Mother hated having to make mention of her late husband. He had gotten drunk one evening seven years prior when Kasandra was eleven, and fell asleep on the tracks downtown. When probed by police she refused to admit it was anything but purely accidental. Kassandra knew better. She often wondered if her mother had denied it simply because of her deeply rooted religious beliefs-- Suicide being one if the biggest sins surely wouldn't look well whilst amongst the members of The Lighthouse-- or if she knew that if they didn't fight the claims tooth and nail that they'd have no case against the railroad, therefore leaving them without their main provider and surely ending up penniless.

"That's right. I'm sorry"

But she wasn't.

Ever since her father had died, saying his name had become the equivalent of a curse word or taking the Lords name in vane. Kassandra resented her Mother for it, and experienced nothing short of pleasure watching the discomfort wash over her face and body at the mention of anything even associated with him.