My Trophy Boy

Act 3 - Scene 3: Holding Back The Tears To Cry

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One, I was already ashamed to bring Quinton to my trampy ends. The streets were dirty and rubbish was flying about, good job in the car he was distracted by his phone to care I guess.

Two, I didn't want to introduce him to my private home life when he has no personal value to me, but for me to enhance my riches. And to do that I didn't want him to see me as a low class piece of scum, not that ordinary people should be seen as that, but all my life I've had to exceed to prevent peoples judgement from hindering my successes.

Three, I was so furious! Paris got into a fight and was excluded from school, but my phone was on silent so I missed all the calls. I can't wait to cuss her ass when I get home.

"Is that all, Mr Pierce?" Asked my local shop keeper, a cheery bald Pakistani man.

"Yes, thank you, Mr Baal." I took my blue plastic bag, which had: whipped cream, strawberry syrup, double chocolate chip cookies and an energy drink.

I walked home thinking about some ideas.

.

I opened my door to smell takeaway food. The front door was unlocked which wasn't like Paris. I smiled for the cussing she was about to endure.

I walked into my living room and my bag dropped out of my hands.

Paris was K.O'ed on the floor. The witch that pushed us out of her cunt was sitting on the sofa righteously.
Is this where I lay my hands on a woman?! On my mother (the noun making me wince)!

"What the fuck?!" I yelled.

I ran over to Paris, shaking her awake. Her body was limp and her face was bruised. I felt her pulse and her breathing which seemed fine. But this wasn't good.

The witch said nothing, didn't even bat an eye. I picked up Paris' sleeping body and took her to her room for her to rest in her bed. I'd tend to her swollen bruises after I get this parasite out of my house.

I rushed to the living room and the Evilness was gone. Where was she?! I approached the kitchen where she held out a knife.

Fuck.

"Marcia, get out." I warned in a low tone.

She shook her head and laughed like the psycho she was. If she didn't have the knife in her hand I would've dragged her out onto the streets.

"I'm not going anywhere you faggot mistake." She said with conscious control.

WHAT THE-
I can't remember the last time she was sobered up and didn't have slurred speech for words. This looked like our mum, but didn't sound liked her.

My heart beat sped up...

"You are a disgrace, an abomination to humanity. I went into MY room and saw your dirty gadgets. I read through a notebook which had your 'video plans'." She laughed in disgust.

My eyes welled up with an unfamiliar feeling, but I held myself together.

"You will leave MY flat today! If you don't I have friends coming over so they'll deal with you." She continued. I took a step forward to her.
"If you come any closer I will gut you, you dirty stinking bastard." She spat with flem hitting the floor and a crazed look in her eyes which screamed 'I want to murder someone today, because I'm mentally, physically and spiritually ill!'.