Author's Chapter Notes:
Don't know where this one came from. Started writing with one thing in mind but this is what came out. Hope it' ok.
We get a glimpse at what life was like for Marie in Mississippi

Chapter 2: The Father
Song: Perfect by Alanis Morissette
We'll love you just the way you are if you're perfect




She was an abomination from the start and only grew worse.

Cried at all hours of the night when there was nothing wrong with her. Cried like she was being stuck by pins whenever I came near her.

Every time in church she’d act up. Laughing, making faces, complaining about the heat and asking all sorts of questions about right and wrong and hell. Could never sit still.

I should have known then. I should have known, right from the start that the devil had a hold on her. That she was a filthy soul.

I reckon she knew it too. I mean how else can ya explain all those things she did for people, claiming she never wanted anything in return. Nobody does something for nothing. She was trying to clean her soul with good deeds. Stupid girl. Once the soul is dirty, no amount of good deeds can make it pure again.

She was a whore too. A filthy, unclean, mutant whore. She was supposed to be studying with Cody. She knew the rules, when company’s over the bedroom door stays open. I didn’t want sinful things occurring in my house. But she always defied my rules and always got a whooping for it too. She closed the door. She wore inappropriate clothing. She had a boy on her bed. She kissed him and sent Sharlene’s boy into a coma, damn right almost killed ‘em. I shudder to think what she would have done had her skin decided to not become deadly at that point.

It’s funny to me what her mutation is. Deadly skin. Bitch will never be touched again. Her punishment for trying to be a whore. No one will want her now. No man in his right mind would ever consider touching the slut with skin that could kill ya. The one good thing about it will be she will never be able to produce more mutie freaks.

I told her I wanted her gone. I didn’t want a demon in my house. I grabbed her by the shoulder and got as far as the front door before her mother stopped me. ‘Please’ she said ‘Don’t do this’. Then when that didn’t work she begged for me to give ‘her’ money, so she could make it. Finally she pleaded that if she didn’t have enough things to make it far ‘she’ would only return or stay close and cause the family more shame.

I knew she was just lying so she could make sure her daughter was well supplied but it worked. I wanted her gone, far away and never to return. I went upstairs and got my old army duffel. It hasn’t been cleaned in ages. It stunk and it was slightly moth eaten and I was glad to be rid of it. I threw it at ‘her’ feet and said she had fifteen minutes to collect her things and be out of the house. Then I gave her mother sixty dollars to give to her and went to bed.

She probably didn’t even leave the state by the time the money ran out and she started whoring herself for money. I would pray for her soul if I thought she was able to be saved. Makes no use now, she was weak and small, there’s no way she made it.

Her mama cried when she left. Don’t know why. She should be happy this house is clean again. For some time she did nothing but sit in that room and cry. Then she started to call me names, begging me to find her baby and bring her back home. I told her “Your daughter will not step foot in this house ever again.”

“She’s your daughter too.” I slapped her then, good and hard.

“That girl is no kin of mine.” She tried to sleep in the girl’s room that night. Told me she wanted her daughter back and if that meant leaving me, so be it. I did what any self respecting man would do, I beat her. Don’t she know divorce ain’t allowed, it’s an act against God himself.

She stayed. Gave me my meals three times a day and kept the house clean, like a good woman should. I catch her sometimes, crying over that whore. I don’t mind it as long as she quiet and it don’t interfere with her duties. This is my house and in my house, we good clean Christian folk.

Though lately she’s been slacking on the house. Yesterday she didn’t do the laundry, when I asked her why she said she had an errand to run in town. Lying bitch got hit for that. There is no errand for a woman except what’s in the house. I put her in her place. Last night she left a dish in the sink, I let it go ‘cus I figured she couldn’t see too well with her eye swollen.

Like now. I just got home from work and my dinner is late.

I don’t even smell the pot roast I told to make.

She must love getting hit. She must be sick, like that filth she gave birth to.

I go upstairs to find her and the door to ‘her’ room is open a little, that mean she crying her eyes out again, probably clutching some stuffed animal. Doesn’t she see we are better off without her?

Just like I thought, she’s on the bed, surrounded by pictures of ‘her’. What I don’t expect is my shotgun on the floor and half her head lying across the room. The blood staining the carpet, bits of her brain stuck to the lilac walls.

Stupid women.

Suicide is a sin.




Perfect by Alanis Morissette

Sometimes is never quite enough
If you're flawless, then you'll win my love
Don't forget to win first place
Don't forget to keep that smile on your face

Be a good boy
Try a little harder
You've got to measure up
And make me prouder

How long before you screw it up
How many times do I have to tell you to hurry up
With everything I do for you
The least you can do is keep quiet

Be a good girl
You've gotta try a little harder
That simply wasn't good enough
To make us proud

I'll live through you
I'll make you what I never was
If you're the best, then maybe so am I
Compared to him, compared to her
I'm doing this for your own damn good
You'll make up for what I blew
What's the problem...why are you crying

Be a good boy
Push a little further now
That wasn't fast enough
To make us happy
We'll love you just the way you are if you're perfect
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