The Autistic and the Bad Boy

birthdays

word count: 7453

Washed up and drained, Priscilla sat at the doorstep with a bunch of index cards in her hand. The words "You're Invited!" were molded into the cards with a smooth blue gel pen. Her birthday was only days away and she'd never had the opportunity to celebrate it.

She dreadfully tried to remember the names of those she'd been introduced to, but she whines aloud when she couldn't. Her list consisted of a fair few that she had come up with.

Jason

Pattie

Jeremy

Ally

~

Patricia stood in her kitchen chopping a batch of onions while she heard her husband bicker about his fellow companions. Tears made their way down her cheeks as she reminded herself of what a cruel creature her husband was.

She couldn't believe the man she'd learn to fall in love with would betray every ounce of blood in her and wring the last of guilt she had. She only blamed herself for stepping into Jeremy's black hole.

Her heart felt heavy, too heavy, and she fell to the floor clutching onto the knife in her hand as the sobs emitted from her mouth. Jeremy watched his wife drop onto their marble floor in pure shock before running to her aid.

"Patricia!" He called as he placed his very arms underneath her limp ones.

"Don't you dare lay those filthy hands of yours on me," Patricia said with distaste in her voice.

Jeremy's eyes turned coal as he glared down at the woman he'd married. Their eye lock had been broken by the knock on the kitchen door and a loud thud after. Patricia scrambled herself from the floor and stuck the knife into the wooden cutting board before shooting Jeremy a warning glance. She proceeded to the door and swung it open with a perfected fake smile on her face.

Seeing it was Priscilla scrambling her things together from the floor she saw from above two guards pointing and laughing. She sighed and glanced down at the poor girl who was struggling to pick up her things. Textbooks, workbooks, a football that she guessed the laughing men had thrown at her, and what she guessed were index cards filled Priscilla's hands.

Patricia smiled, sympathetically this time, and leaned down to help her sort her things out. If she hadn't, she wouldn't have noticed the poorly covered up bruises on her skin and the very recent bloody nose.

"S-Sorry Mi-Miss Pattie," Priscilla sniffled, " Cilla try to c-catch it but she n-no do it. N-no no hit me p-pretty please."

Patricia eyes glossed over and she glanced up at the two guards who were still laughing their asses off and having the time of their lives. She threw the cards in her hands back down and strutted her way over to the two men- boys.

"You ignorant assholes can walk out of my house and find new jobs because you are fired," she said with a plastered fake smile and nice voice. Then she whipped her hair and walked back over to Priscilla. She wrapped her arms around her and brought her to the kitchen where she'd clean her wound.

"Mis-Miss Pattie?"

"Yes, dear?" She answered with a nice velvet voice.

"Y-You no hit me right?" Priscilla asked with her head hanging low.

Patricia fought her tears, "I would never lay a finger on you."

Priscilla hummed and smiled, "Y-You come to Cilla's p-party right?"

Patricia simply hummed with a joyous smile, "Of course I will! Anything for you, sweet pea. Now what is this party for?"

"Why, it's C-Cilla's birthday, of course!" she exclaimed completely euphoric at the fact Mrs. Pattie would be joining her for her joyous day.