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- The Truth about Trixie, Chapter 2
- >Be Great and Powerful.
- >Be feeling Small and Weak.
- >And starving.
- >There was nothing to eat in the fridge yesterday. Again.
- >No money to buy lunch at the cafeteria. Again.
- >A single bit to your name left from busking last weekend, unspent, in your pocket.
- >In your backpack, the in school suspension slip that unspent bit had earned you.
- >You needed your parents to sign it, of course.
- >Of course.
- >Of course you were being forced to talk to them about what happened.
- >You're going to be lucky if all you get is a concussion from this.
- >You might get a concussion and jail time.
- >You became a sobbing wreck when Principal Celestia said that Vomit Comet's dad wanted to sue.
- >You don't want to go to jail.
- >Dad said you'd get raped if you went to jail.
- >He'd seen it happen.
- >He told you about it.
- >He had a very, very good memory.
- >Thankfully, hunger forces those thoughts from your mind.
- >You dismount your bike and lean against the sign at the entrance to your neighborhood.
- >Fairhope Village, the shame of Canterlot.
- >It's not the only bad neighborhood in the city, but it's the worst by far.
- >A collection of three hundred run-down mobile homes filled with drug dealers, thieves, prostitutes, each having at least three times their numbers in clients as neighbors.
- >Your mom was one of those clients.
- >She paid with the food stamps this time.
- >You lean against your bicycle, stomach cramping, head throbbing.
- >Gritting your teeth, you wheel yourself to your fate.
- ***
- >You make it, finally, to your house.
- >Mustard yellow, small, and littered with crushed cans and broken glass.
- >Your room's window is open.
- >Isabella's hopping at the windowsill, barking her tiny head off at your arrival
- >There's a loud crash from inside, like glass shattering, and Isabella gets louder.
- >"SHUT UP, FUCKING RAT!"
- >Before she can do any more damage, you stagger over to your window.
- >You hold your hand up so Bella can sniff it.
- >The cramping dulls when she sniffs then licks your hand through the screen.
- "Shhh. Quiet, Isabella. Mama Trixie's back."
- >A soft giggle escapes your lips as she continues licking your fingers. She settles down enough to sit.
- "Just give mama a second. She'll be right there."
- >Bella yips and hops out of sight onto your night stand.
- >You fish out your keys, climb the steps, and unlock the door. You pull your bike inside with you.
- >Your precious little blue fluffball is sitting beneath an upturned chair, overjoyed to see you back.
- >You scoop her up off the mottled carpet and bring her to your chest. She fully extends, paws pressed to your clavicle, licking your chin.
- >A fluttery warmth fills you. You squeeze Bella tight and survey the living room for clues.
- >Looks like the same mess as before.
- >The coffee table doesn't have any new bottles of Popov, no fresh cigarette burns on the couch.
- >Your mother didn't put her spoon in the sink this morning, so you pick it up for her.
- >The chair being knocked over must've been an accident.
- >You weave your bike through the living room onto the curling linoleum floor of the kitchen and deposit the paraphenalia into the flooded sink. You'll have to clean that soon.
- >Your nose wrinkles. Clean it with bleach. And empty the trash.
- >Your stomach roars in protest when you leave the kitchen for the hallway.
- >Check the fridge.
- >Check the cabinets.
- >You know better than to listen to it.
- >You ignore the growing water stains, the peeling of the wood around the back door, the dirty clothes and dust beneath your feet.
- >Your bedroom is the first door, left side of the hallway. After it is the bathroom, and then your parent's room.
- >You push your bike in and close the door behind you, bolting it at the top.
- >Mom sounded like she'd need some rest before you interrupted her with the I.S.S. slip.
- >You weren't delaying the inevitable, you tell yourself.
- >You lie down on the bed, setting Bella beside you. You make a pillow with your arm and smile at her.
- "Mama Trixie loves you!"
- >Bella waddles to your face and licks your nose. 'I love mama more!', you imagine her saying.
- >You giggle, booping her on the nose.
- "No, mama loves *you* more!"
- >Uh oh, you picked a fight you can't win. Bella smothers your face with tiny doggy kisses, her pink tongue lapping everywhere she can reach.
- >You scoop her up and hold her high. Her tail is wagging hard and fast, tongue out and panting.
- "Time out! Mama admits defeat!"
- >You set her on your chest and she plops down, energetic black eyes staring at your smile.
- >You reach up, fix the pink bow in her hair, then scratch both floppy, green ears.
- "Bella, were you a good girl today for mama?"
- >Yip!
- "Mama wasn't a good girl today."
- >Whine...
- "She got into a lot of trouble."
- >Bella rests her head, paws creeping forward. You stroke her from tip to tail and give a weak smile.
- >She doesn't buy it.
- >You turn your head away from Bella, distracting yourself from your guilt and hunger by looking around your room.
- >It's tiny, the narrow strip of carpet between your bed and the opposite wall's furniture completely taken up by your bike.
- >The walls, where possible, are covered by posters of the greats and shelves of your personal affects.
- >Penn & Teller, Lafayette. How-to guides on magic, acting, and charisma.
- >In your closet hangs your hand-sewn performance attire and hats, making up over 30% of your entire wardrobe.
- >The floor of the closet has Isabella's bathroom pad, so far unused.
- >You should take her for her walk soon.
- >Somewhere with vending so you can get something to eat.
- >But you feel exhausted.
- >Today's been the worst day since last week.
- >Freaking Vomit Comet.
- >You hug Bella, turning to face the wall as your eyes begin to mist over.
- >You're tired of everything being your fault.
- >It was all his fault, but because you hurt him, you're taking all the blame.
- >He did get a concussion...
- >But he provoked you!
- >You relax your hug when Bella whines.
- "Mama's sorry, baby. She had a bad day."
- >It wasn't right, no, but... but he made you do it!
- >Just like he made you b-break the law with tresspassing, and made you cry when he puked all over your boots.
- >It's like he's out to get you.
- >As if you didn't have enough problems already.
- >Your face is hot. Your eyes feel heavy. The tears spill as you close them.
- >Your stomach hurts so bad.
- >And you knew if you fell asleep, if you didn't get mom to sign your slip before dad got home...
- >You're just so tired. Tired of this life.
- >There's no justice in this world.
- >You curl up around your only friend and fall asleep.
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