((combining two memshares for this: one is a direct excerpt the other is a rewrite for clarity. I apologize for the change in tenses but I am not changing them, suffer))
Alan loosened some cash to enroll Amma at the Bell School—$22,000 a year, not counting books and supplies—just nine blocks away. She made quick friends, a little circle of pretty girls who learned to yearn for all things Missouri. The one I really liked was a girl named Lily Burke. She was as bright as Amma, with a sunnier outlook. She had a spray of freckles, oversized front teeth, and hair the color of chocolate, which Amma pointed out was the exact shade of the rug in my old bedroom. I liked her anyway.
She became a fixture at the apartment, helping me cook dinner, asking me questions about homework, telling stories about boys. Amma got progressively quieter with each of Lily's visits. By October, she'd shut her door pointedly when Lily came by.
One night I woke to find Amma standing over my bed.
"You like Lily better than me," she whispered. She was feverish, her nightgown clinging to her sweaty body, her teeth chattering. I guided her to the bathroom, sat her down on the toilet, wet a washcloth under the cool, metallic water of the sink, wiped her brow. Then we stared at each other. Slate blue eyes just like Adora's. Blank. Like a winter pond.
~*&*~
On October 12, Lily Burke disappeared on her way home from school. Four hours later, her body was found, propped tidily next to a Dumpster three blocks from our apartment. Only six of her teeth had been pulled, the oversized front two and four on the bottom.
I phoned Wind Gap and waited on hold twelve minutes until police confirmed my mother was in her home.
I found it first. I let the police discover it, but I found it first. As Amma trailed me like an angry dog, I tore through the apartment, upending seat cushions, rummaging through drawers. What have you done Amma? By the time I got to her room, she was calm. Smug. I sifted through her panties, dumped out her wish chest, turned over her mattress.
I went through her desk and uncovered only pencils, stickers, and a cup that stank of bleach.
I swept out the contents of the dollhouse room by room, smashing my little four-poster bed, Amma's day bed, the lemon yellow love seat. Once I'd flung out my mother's big brass canopy and destroyed her vanity table, either Amma or I screamed. Maybe both of us did. The floor of my mother's room. The beautiful ivory tiles. Made of human teeth. Fifty-six tiny teeth, cleaned and bleached and shining from the floor.
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scrapdraught) wrote2024-06-09 08:28 pm
2/3 (EXCERPT) ((SPOILERS, CW: child murder, teeth extraction))
Alan loosened some cash to enroll Amma at the Bell School—$22,000 a year, not counting books and supplies—just nine blocks away. She made quick friends, a little circle of pretty girls who learned to yearn for all things Missouri. The one I really liked was a girl named Lily Burke. She was as bright as Amma, with a sunnier outlook. She had a spray of freckles, oversized front teeth, and hair the color of chocolate, which Amma pointed out was the exact shade of the rug in my old bedroom. I liked her anyway.
She became a fixture at the apartment, helping me cook dinner, asking me questions about homework, telling stories about boys. Amma got progressively quieter with each of Lily's visits. By October, she'd shut her door pointedly when Lily came by.
One night I woke to find Amma standing over my bed.
"You like Lily better than me," she whispered. She was feverish, her nightgown clinging to her sweaty body, her teeth chattering. I guided her to the bathroom, sat her down on the toilet, wet a washcloth under the cool, metallic water of the sink, wiped her brow. Then we stared at each other. Slate blue eyes just like Adora's. Blank. Like a winter pond.
On October 12, Lily Burke disappeared on her way home from school. Four hours later, her body was found, propped tidily next to a Dumpster three blocks from our apartment. Only six of her teeth had been pulled, the oversized front two and four on the bottom.
I phoned Wind Gap and waited on hold twelve minutes until police confirmed my mother was in her home.
I found it first. I let the police discover it, but I found it first. As Amma trailed me like an angry dog, I tore through the apartment, upending seat cushions, rummaging through drawers. What have you done Amma? By the time I got to her room, she was calm. Smug. I sifted through her panties, dumped out her wish chest, turned over her mattress.
I went through her desk and uncovered only pencils, stickers, and a cup that stank of bleach.
I swept out the contents of the dollhouse room by room, smashing my little four-poster bed, Amma's day bed, the lemon yellow love seat. Once I'd flung out my mother's big brass canopy and destroyed her vanity table, either Amma or I screamed. Maybe both of us did. The floor of my mother's room. The beautiful ivory tiles. Made of human teeth. Fifty-six tiny teeth, cleaned and bleached and shining from the floor.