Mercy

Chapter Eight

I can't suppress my frown while I sat at dinner the next hour; a little later than usual but I'm not complaining. I wasn't going to fake how I felt around my family today, since the energy I had a few hours ago was sucked dry from working at the restaurant. My final results for finals won't be released until the very end of summer. And I'm sure I didn't do as well as my mother wanted.

A letter home with grades that are just passing the eleventh grade.

"Hmm," my mother hummed, breaking the uncomfortable silence that hung in the air. The fan blades whooshed above us, and I swear it moved the tension around more useless than cutting water. "Serenity, what happened to the skirt you were wearing?"

A deep punch to my stomach was felt; it wasn't a hand but the tension rising from the pit of my stomach and going back down to leave its territory.

My mouth parted as she stared at me, eyebrows raised. She waited for my explanation, crossing her arms over her chest. For a second I thought my life would end, and she caught me. But that was before I found a really good reason.

"I bought these new jeans and I wanted to wear them out. They fit nicely, don't you think?" I asked, quite amused if I might say so myself. I stared at her with the most masked expression I could muster. Don't get me wrong I was freaking out in the inside but I wasn't planning on getting my ass whipped tonight.

She didn't answer me, just hummed to herself.

Willie stared at me, not picking at his food like he was a minute ago. I looked back at him, my hardening gaze almost shutting him up in that instant even before he said anything. He looked quite scared, and I knew I was scaring the shits out of him. He better keep his baby mouth quiet before I told the church I found the Devil's son.

Oh, the town would go mad.

"So, what did you buy?" My dad asked me, swallowing down a piece of steak. 

I separated the beans from the potatoes with my fork, not wanting to look up at him as I spoke. I actually felt bad about lying to my dad. Not my mom. Certainly, I'd lie about anything to my mom rergardless the circumstance.

"Oh you know," I mumbled, which earned my mother to cough so I'd stop mumbling my words. Clearing my throat, I looked up to find my dad smiling towards me. I ignored my mother's hard stare, knowing she was trying to burn her eyes into my mind. "Shirts, jeans, and a pair of new flats."

"No skirts?" My mother asked. "No necessities?"

"Well...," I began, looking over at her frowning. "I thought I had enough skirts in my closet."

"It's true," my dad agreed, my mother not tearing her eyes away from mine. Dad moved his hands as he spoke, wiping at the corners of his mouth with his napkin. "She does have a lot of skirts, Jessica."

Mom smiled at me, but the hard look behind her eyes made me want to crawl beneath a rock. "And nothing else? You know I thought I said you should buy things like undergarments and perfumes. Nice things like that."