Collette

chapter two

    When dad died, Collette pretended not to notice. She decided that the house was still giving us the means to survive, she refused to go live in foster homes, where we could at least get some food.

    Collette was kindof an asshole. She went from normal teenage girl crap, to a fifty-three year old lady in her midlife crisis sipping Pino Noir with ice on her front porch.

     Lucky for me, I found a passtime. It got us money, and a bit of fun too. A little old lady walked by our house every day, with her fur coat that reached three feet behind her (we used to joke that it was made of her seventy three mysteriously murdered and scalped husbands) and a pimp cane. She was really small and skinny, so I assumed it'd be easy to sneak up behind her.

      Rule one, never take off your shoes. My old slip-ons were really worn and ugly and I thought I could be quieter without them. When I tried to sneak up behind the lady and throw her coat over her, I tripped and broke my arm. Instead of freaking out and asking what the fuck I was doing, she took me to the hospital and got me a cast. When the doctors asked what happened, I told them I got stuck to some industrial strength chewing gum on the ground. I don't think they bought it, but it was enough for the old lady.

    A little time passed and the woman stopped by our house. She made meatloaf, which normally I'd hate, but I was so starved I was about to eat my sister, it was gone in twenty minutes. She asked us where our parents were and Collette replied with something along the lines of,"We don't stick around that much." The woman replied with a kind welcome to stay in her home for as long as we liked.

     I was miserable. It took some coaxing, but I finally got the mule to come with me. We stayed there for a few months, food, water, a nice bed to sleep in. It was all I could've asked for. I was glad to be done with school, too. I got a nice job at the Mark It Market, and we were happy.

They  were happy.

     I hated that old woman. She wined and nagged and told me I was dirty. Which for one, wasn't true, I took showers every day. And because I was born with pigments a little darker than my sisters, it was racist. That's probably why she loved Collette so much. Collette only liked her because she spoiled Collette, god, I hated that woman.

     I saw a chance, and I took it.

     That old bat had a giant stache of old, expensive jewelry in her bedroom. She made me do chores around the house in exchange for so generously allowing my sister and I to stay there. Unfortunately, because she was racist, she was always wary of me stealing things. But I still decided to get some of her precious pearls when I was vaccuming.