Original Publication Information:
Suedomsa the Magazine March 1998 Volume One, Issue
Eight
Twisted by Andy Marx
Mother was tall, blond and slender. Carefree by nature, she married five
times, having one child with each of her first four husbands,
respectively: Harry, Horace, Hiram, Hank and Henry. Of the five, only
Henry married her because the couple was in love. She married the others
for purely sexual reasons.
Her eldest child, Whip, was in every respect her mother's daughter. Whip
had long, straight blond hair which she let fall seductively over her left
eye and down her voluptuous body. She knew she was beautiful, which
eventually led, with the subtle push of illegal drugs, to the job of
prostitution. She was well-paid, but she chose to live at home to welch
food from her mother.
Two years younger than Whip was Chain, who worshipped her mother.
However, Chain's interests developed in another direction than her
mother's had. Not wishing to become like Whip, she became academically
inclined. She was the only child in the family who would go to college.
She, too, had inherited her mother's good looks, but she had never kissed
a boy.
Chain's younger sister, Bacon, could make the same disclaimer. She was as
her name implied, also taking after her father in every respect. Hiram
had been a professional wrestler, and always had an appetite. She ate
constantly, taking away half of her mother's meager weekly pay. If it
wasn't for Henry, the entire family would have lived in a cardboard box,
with Bacon living next door in the garbage dumpster.
And then, there was Amy.
Neglected her entire life, Amy learned to hate the world of her birth.
Easily depressed, she saw what sex had done to Whip and abstained from it.
Terribly lonely, she saw what knowledge had done to Chain and renounced
it. Unintelligent, she saw what Henry had done for her mother and was
insanely jealous. Amy had an inhuman crush on him. Her sole desire was
to force her mother to leave Henry, so she could marry him.
Amy's favorite place in her hateful little world was her balcony. The
family lived a short walk from the Pacific Ocean and hers was the only
room with a view. Many days her family would find her out on the balcony,
staring deep into the sky.
One fateful morning, she was enjoying the peaceful sunrise while cleaning
her ears of the wax build-up, when Bacon suddenly joined her. Bacon might
have noticed the cross expression on Amy's face had she not been
mesmerized by the myriad of colors in the sky. In her sweetest voice Amy
asked, "Anything wrong?" Startled, Bacon motioned to her backside, which
was obstructed from Amy's view by her large frontside.
"I need you to button my dress," Bacon whined loudly. Amy almost laughed
out loud at her helplessness. Nevertheless, she stood up and with much
difficulty, buttoned the dress from Bacon's plump thighs to her corpulent
neck. Amy picked up her q-tip intending to sit back down and finish what
she had started. Unfortunately, Bacon had other plans. "No," she
pleaded, "you must help me put my jacket on."
In anger, Amy turned her back on her sister. Bacon put her greasy hand on
Amy's shoulder, vaguely aware of her distress. Amy spun around, and
impulsively sent the q-tip deep into Bacon's cleavage, where it embedded
itself. In surprise more than actual pain, Bacon clumsily fell backward,
her monstrous weight sending her crashing off the balcony onto the cement
of their driveway. With satisfaction, Amy dusted off her hands and let
out an ear piercing scream.
The first to respond was Chain, whose room was the closest. She
immediately grasped the horrific situation and began screaming herself.
Mother, Henry and Whip found them shrieking hysterically, arm in arm.
Mother pulled them apart and took Chain aside to sit down. Whip walked to
the edge and observed the carnage below, to which she added some of the
contents of her stomach. Henry ran back into the house to call for an
ambulance.
Too late. Bacon died on impact.
A funeral was held three days later. Very few people attended and the
policeman who investigated her death told Mother confidentially, "Although
no one will be blamed for her death, I believe one of your daughters
killed her." The reason was simple. A brief examination of the body
revealed the q-tip's existence. Mother was very upset by the news.
Because Whip had been with her, she knew it had to have been Chain or Amy.
The latter was only fourteen so she was less capable of such an act in her
mother's eyes. Mother finally decided to confront Chain, unaware that she
had become unhinged by the death of her sister.
Immediately upon being accused, Chain broke down and announced her guilt.
She screamed horribly over and over, "I did it, I admit it." As mothers
are inclined to do, Mother was compelled to comfort her before taking her,
with Henry driving, to the police station. Before leaving, Whip was given
twenty dollars and told to have dinner ready upon their return.
Whip commented to Amy on the way to the grocery store, "You know, I was
surprised Chain confessed. I honestly thought you had killed Bacon." Amy
held her own surprise and anger hidden beneath a passive exterior. She
was afraid Chain would change her mind and then Whip would broadcast her
suspicions to their mother. Wildly, Amy grabbed the steering wheel and
turned it violently to the right. Having precious seconds to prepare, she
had slipped off her seatbelt and jumped out of the car before it rammed
spectacularly into the railing and then flew off the side of a small
cliff, flipping a few times before stopping completely.
Whip's skull was crushed.
A year passed. Amy dropped out of school and took over the many household
jobs that had once been divided among a whole family. Henry was working
twelve hour days to support the four of them, which made Amy love him even
more. Chain was never sent to jail, there was no evidence to support her
confession (she didn't know about the q-tip) and it was determined she was
undert extreme mental stress. After recovering from both deaths, she
returned to school and quickly became engrossed in her studies.
Mother did not recover from the deaths of her precious daughters. She
soon lost her vitality and became addicted to soap operas. She slept
often and ate little. Amy hated her mother for losing touch with reality.
And still, her love for Henry grew.
One fate evening, Amy was scouring the cast-iron pans until they were
spotless, when Mother walked into the kitchen and asked for a glass of
milk. She appeared not to hear her mother's request, but inside, Amy was
seething. Swiftly, she grabbed a cast-iron pan and brought it down upon
Mother's head. The body slumped to the floor, and Amy quickly placed it
in a trash can outside the kitchen door and mopped up the blood.
As quietly as possible, Amy sneaked into her room and walked out on the
balcony. She needed time to compose herself. Behind her, she could hear
Chain enter her own room and sit down at her desk. There was a click of
the light switch and the rustling of blankets.
As she turned to exit her room, Amy paused to notice her reflection. She
did not see the auburn nymph as normal. Rather, she viewed bright red
eyes, smoke pouring from her nostrils, froth trickling down her neck like
a miniature waterfall. In a mad rage, she stormed into Chain's dark room
and frantically looked around in the shadows for a way to kill her.
Picking up the lamp off the desk, she threw it at the bookshelf above
Chain's bed. The shelf collapsed, sending a shower of books onto Chain's
head. Checking her pulse to make sure she was dead, Amy gasped. A sound
of someone approaching. The light turned on. Fearfully, Amy looked
toward the door.
Chain was standing there in her bathrobe holding two glasses of champagne.
Irritated, she asked, "What did you do to Henry?"
