“She’s a bitch.”
“Language!”
“I’m sorry. She’s very mean at school, to everyone. I’d rather be here with Pin.”
“Pin? Who’s that?
“My doll, silly”
“Isn’t Pin a boy’s name?”
“Doesn’t matter, she likes it.”
“Okay…”
“So, are you going to help me find what I am looking for?” Belinda finally asked.
“Sure, whatever. Eat first.”
They both ate in silence for a moment before Jenny continued, asking one last question. “Why were you and your dad by my door last night?”
“I don’t know… I heard him on the stairs, and I followed him there. He seemed lost.”
Jenny tried to hide a smile but failed, making it obvious to Belinda that she was pleased about what had happened. This angered her, but Belinda was better at hiding her emotions than Jenny. Eating helped her disguise her frown.
“All done!” Belinda exclaimed.
Belinda ran upstairs to see if her mom was still sleeping; her bedroom door was slightly ajar. Peeking with her right eye, she saw her mom, Camille, sleeping under her heavy comforter. Belinda remembered how soft her parents’ bed was, missing the days when she used to snuggle in between them. The memory of her mother’s blonde hair spread across her pillow obscuring her vision; she also remembered the eucalyptus mint shampoo she used to use.
Belinda had come to realize how much they had drifted apart, forgetting her mother’s gentle gaze. She couldn’t remember the last time her mother had embraced her;she felt like a castaway at sea. Her mother’s loneliness felt greater than her own, like a never-ending storm. She looked as if she was cradled by a shadow.
With sadness in her heart and trying not to think of what she knew about her mother, Belinda’s determination to make her mother happy again grew. She walked away from the door slowly, her doll in her arms.
Back in the kitchen, Belinda saw that Jenny had already cleaned everything up. Dishes were put away, and Jenny was wiping the last bits of crumbs from the marbled counter.
“Are you ready? Come help me, please.”
“Right now?” Jenny asked.
“Yes, now,” Belinda demanded.
As they walked to the garage, Belinda led Jenny. With Pin in her arm, she straightened her doll’s velvet dress while walking further away. One of the walls had tall racks that reached the ceiling; her dad kept everything organized. There was a small stool, and Jenny climbed onto it with Belinda’s guidance.
“All the way on the top, a large black container,” Belinda said.
“The whole gallon? What’s in it, and what do you need this for?” Jenny asked.
“I am doing a school project. Hurry up!”
“Look, just go wake your mom up. I don’t have time for this,” Jenny replied.
Jenny tried to reach the jug that sat just out of her reach, putting one foot off the stool and onto the rack itself. Her balance wavered dangerously, causing her to shake gently back and forth. Unaware of how perilously unbalanced she had become, she suddenly felt the stool jerk free beneath her.
The container was already in her hand, but in that split second, she lost control. As she tumbled downward, she saw the lid had been removed, the liquids spilled out in a sickening rush, splattering across her as she hit the ground with a heavy thud.
The ghastly screams that Jenny unleashed were primal and frantic; a raw, blood-curdling cry that pierced the thick air and grew louder with each passing second. Her trembling hands clawed at her neck and face, trying to wipe away the corrosive chemical, but all she succeeded in doing was smearing the toxic liquid across her skin like a gruesome stain.
The corrosive liquid sizzled as it made contact, eating into her skin with a sickening hissing sound. Her eyes widened in horror as her flesh blistered and bubbled, droplets of acid burning trails down her cheeks. Wriggling on the ground, her body convulsed with pain, tearing ather nearly see-through shirt until it shredded, exposing her indigo-laced bra soaked with chemicals.
