I goggled. That wasn’t what Miss Lane was here for at all. Anyone with eyes could see that, my mom was smokin’ something crazy.
“Miss Lane,” I said again, voice hard now. “What can I do for you? Why are you here?”
And this time, the woman answered.
“I’m here because you’re worthless,” she sneered. “Lower than dirt.”
That made both me and my mom shut up, the air in the living room completely silent. Because who would say that to my face? The rudeness was indescribable.
But this woman was off her rocker, certifiably insane. Because she actually went over to the lamp then, and with a sweep of her hand, knocked it off the table. If it hadn’t bounced onto our thick shag rug, it would have broken for sure, but instead it rolled a couple feet.
My mom and I gasped. What the hell? What was going on?
“I’m calling the police,” I rushed. “Mom, dial 911, this is crazy.”
Mary reached for the phone with trembling hands, but before she could get to it, Miss Lane slapped her across the face hard. My mom sat down with a thump, head whipped to the side from the force of the blow.
“Mom!” I screamed, leaping to her side. “Are you okay?”
Mary was completely dazed, eyes a bleary blue, glasses crooked on her nose.
“I-I’m okay honey,” she stammered. “I’m okay.”
And at that, I lost it because who was this woman to come marching into our home, insulting everything, breaking furniture, and then literally hitting my mom? I flew at her in a rage, ready to punch, bite and scream, all my frustration and heartbreak erupting at that moment.
But in a flash, Miss Lane pulled a gun from her purse and pointed it directly at me. My feet skidded to a halt, arms still outstretched.
“Stop,” she said in dead voice. “Don’t move.”
Muscles twitching, I didn’t move an inch. Oh my god, was this really happening? Was a strange woman threatening us with a gun, right here in our living room?
But something had changed about Miss Lane. Because she’s never been a nice person, but she’d been alive at least. There’d been a person behind those cold blue eyes, someone with her own life, her own needs and wants, her own dreams. What they were, I couldn’t be sure, but all that was gone now. All that looked back at us was a pair of lifeless blue eyes, cold as ice.
“You’re a slut,” she said tunelessly to me.
My hands up, I decided to give her whatever she wanted.
“Yes,” I nodded slowly. “Yes, I’m a slut. You’re right Miss Lane. I’m a slut.”
Her chin jerked at me.
“You’re a slut of the worst kind. Young and nubile, you tempt him. You make him want you, when he shouldn’t.”
Again, I was going to agree with anything she said.
“You’re right,” I said, nodding slowly, hands still up. “You’re one hundred percent right, I’m the one who tempted him.”
Beside me, Mary still sat motionless on the ground, quivering with fear.
“Please let my mom go,” I said in a low voice. “Please, she has nothing to do with this.”
“No!” came the harsh word in a furious burst, gun wavering between the two of us, making us both cower. “No! She stays!”
I nodded, breathing shallowly, heart beating like a drum.
“Okay, okay,” I said slowly, totally still, my hands still up. “But please, my mom had nothing to do with this. Just please, take whatever you want, but leave us alone. Please,” I whispered again.
But Miss Lane was on a rant, and couldn’t be stopped.
“You’re a slut!” she screamed. “Say it!”
I nodded furiously.
“I’m a slut,” came my voice. “I’m a slut.”
“You’re a slut who tempted Luke Lyons!” she screamed, even more furious this time. “You’re a slut with a dirty cunt, you made him want you!”
I nodded, eyes wide and frozen.
“I’m a slut who tempted Luke Lyons,” the words came out, frozen with fear. “I have a dirty cunt, I made him want me.”
“And that’s why you deserve to die!” she screamed now, voice going even louder and higher. “You deserve to die because you have a dirty cunt!”
My mouth opened and closed, frozen. Could I say it? Could I say “I deserve to die”? The words were so horrible and my brain screamed. I didn’t deserve to die. I didn’t deserve for this to happen. Sure, I’d made some bad decisions, but dying? Being murdered, right here in the living room, in front of my mom? I couldn’t say it, I wouldn’t.
Miss Lane’s eyes narrowed then, her finger on the trigger, all sanity gone at this point.
“Say it!” she screamed. “Say, ‘I deserve to die!’”
My mouth opened, but the words just wouldn’t come out. My throat wobbled, vocal cords trembling, but I just couldn’t say it. And Miss Lane’s anger went ballistic, rising beyond fever pitch. Her finger began squeezing the trigger, and my eyes closed. Goodbye Mom, I prayed silently. Goodbye Luke, I’m so sorry things ended like this. I love you.