Heathers: The Chansaw Edition

Broken Relationships

A/N:
Hey, I just wanted to add a bit of a trigger warning. This chapter has homophobia and shitty parents.

I stood, frozen in place in front of the doorway. My eyes wide and mouth agape. The words "Veronica, we need to talk." Echoed in mind.

"Uhh...what is it mom?" I asked in full on panic mode.

"You seem awfully close with that Heather girl who dropped you off." She said, her voice hard.

"Oh yeah, Heather has been really great." I spoke without thought. A smile started to grow on my face as I thought of her.

"Well, I don't like her. I think she's a bad influence. You need to be careful around girls like her. She'll push you to drink and to do things with boys." My mom warned.

I laughed inwardly at that. She may be right about the whole drinking thing but...she has no idea what's coming, does she? I thought to myself.

"Okay mom, I'll be careful. I promise." I replied.

"No. I don't think you understand. I want you to stop hanging around her." My mom spoke.

My sweet smile froze on my face. "What?" I asked quietly.

"You heard me Veronica." Was all she said in reply.

"You can't do that. She's my friend."

"I am your mother. Yes I can."

My mind was reeling. I couldn't believe what my mom was asking of me. Never see Heather again? No, it's not possible. I thought to myself.

"No." I said curtly.

"What? Veronica, I am your mother. If you are to live under this roof, you need to do as I say. I am trying to do what is best for you."

"No you aren't. You don't understand. Heather is my-" I stopped mid-sentence. Frozen in horror at what I had almost said.

"Huh? Veronica, what's going on?" She asked, her voice full of suspicion. I had stood up from my place on the couch and began to move towards the door.

When I didn't answer, my mother stood and I saw something change in her expression. "She really has been a bad influence." She spoke. Her voice was cold. "So that's why you've been around her so much. She's seduced you to sin."

My mouth dropped open at that. My mother had never spoken in such a manner. I was scared, no, terrified, at what she would do next. I grabbed my shoes and put them on. My hand flew to the door handle.

"I-I need to go." I stuttered out.

"What? Where?"

"Anywhere away from you." I spoke as I passed through the front door.

"Veronica!" My mom yelled somewhere from behind me.

I sped down the street, not sure about where I would go. I thought about who was closest to me. After a short moment of deliberation, I realized that Martha's house was quite close. I made my way in that direction.

Soon, I noticed the distinct green roofing and white exterior of my best friend's home. In fact, it had a frightening resemblance to the house in the horror movie A Nightmare on Elm Street.

I stepped up to the front door and knocked. After a few seconds, someone opened the door. It was Martha's dad, Henry Dunnstock. He was a tall man with a heavy build. His curly brown hair had started to recede these past couple of years and grey had popped up around his temples. Looking up into his brown eyes, I appreciated that he was like another father to me.