I hate Monday’s now. I used to love them, but now they are just a normal day. Monday’s got me out of the house to school or where ever. My parents never miss a day of work, so when I am home and they are not, the silence is golden. It is the best part of my life, no parents yelling at each other, no Mother on the phone pretending to be what she is not, and not having my Father talking endlessly about killing animals and his desire to kill people.
He talked one night for 5 hours on how he dreamed of killing Charlie and I. Exactly what he would do, step by step. He sits in the hall, tells me and Charlie stories while we are locked in our room; just another of their torture.
I have thought and planned how to escape my room and leave my house while they are gone, but I worry that Charlie would be scared when he talks to me and would not answer back. When we get home from school my Father is waiting for us and locks us in our room. When we are off from school they lock us in before they leave. We have our own bathrooms attached to our rooms, so no stinky mess. I read an article in the paper that detailed the kidnapping of a girl and how she was locked in a room with a mattress and a bucket. I could not imagine my prissy Mother living with that smell. That thought actually makes me laugh.
I told my Mother the other day that Cole and I are dating. She has been letting me have more and more time out of the house; to spend time with Cole. My Mother insisted that I make him happy no matter what. I am to do whatever he wants and never refuse. She threatened me that if I did not that I would miss quite a few days from school. Meaning I would not be healthy enough to attend due to her beating. So not only do I have to have sex with my own Father and she doesn’t care; now she is pimping me out to boys at school to score her points on the social ladder.
Mother of the Year award to Jane Williams.
However, the joke is on her, Cole likes boys. He doesn’t want his parents to know and I have agreed to be his pretend girlfriend. We are really good friends and we have always helped each other in one way or another. I lied to get him out of trouble with his parents when he wasn’t home on time, telling them it was entirely my fault and he was with me. His Mom was worried he was doing drugs, reality was he was with another boy from another school, he was dating. He has helped me with my parents, because he is the only person that knows what my Mother does. He helps me at school; when I need help up the steps or covering up the blood I am spitting up. Cole does not know about my Father, I could not bring myself to tell him; to see how he would look at me. Cole is my best friend and the only person I trust in my life, I could not risk losing him or him thinking I am disgusting.
Cole will cover for me and I will cover for him. However, I am doing research on killing my parents and he is with his boyfriend. It’s perfect, my Mother will never question it and I get out of the house to what I need to do and Cole gets to be happy. His Mom will never suspect anything; she is snowed by my fake exterior; as is everyone else.
I have also started thinking that Mother and Father are too good of names for them. I believe Jane and Mark are better. Mother and Father is a term of affection and defines that they are parents. They are not parents; they are abusers, rapists, and jailers. They are monsters and monsters deserve a monsters name. Their given names fit.
Today I have found a new coffee house the perfect distance for me to be able to get home when I have been ordered. I am sure though if I called Jane and said I am in the middle of having sex with Cole, she would let me be late. I have also found a woman that looks like Jane, except she is a brunette and not a blonde. She also is not as fake looking. Jane looks as though she has been carved out of crème cheese and Mark is her Ken. Charlie and I also have those features. I am constantly told I am beautiful and should model and I vomit slightly in my mouth every time. To know I look like them makes me feel like I am the monsters they are. I have thought about changing my appearance with anything that would scare me. I feel I should look as horrible as I feel.
The woman comes in the same time every night. I will drug her coffee tomorrow and see how long it takes her. If it works as well on her, as it did the man I tested, we will be good to go. I called the hospital and said I was at the coffee shop when it happened and asked if he was ok. The nurse that answered said; ‘yes he woke up an hour ago and he will be fine.’ So the pills caused him to be out for about 3 hours. Perfect. I called from a pay phone on the other side of town, nowhere near my house. The plan is slowly coming together. I am counting down the days. It is the first thing in my life I have ever counted days for.