![]() Transcript from the December 12th Interview with Mary B. Because in a few hours, the most dangerous, most diabolical, most conniving woman in the world is visiting me today: It’s a trick I learned in the crazy house, to look like I was stone-cold dead to the world so they would stop asking me so many damn questions.īut I can’t be a fly, not today. I can spend hours entertained by my own fascination of nothingness. Like be a real fly on the wall, staring with kaleidoscope eyes at particles floating in the air, trash blowing in the wind, singling out snowflakes and raindrops. Herbert buzzes around my wet hair, drawn to the gel that helps slick my brown ’fro back into a curly ponytail. I never took showers before, always baths, playing in bubbles made from lemon dish soap in white porcelain tubs. In baby jail, I only got to take one five-minute shower every other day, the water like a fire hose, whipping my skin like towel snaps. The showerhead is a slow drizzling rain cloud. But that’s what the stupid girl I used to be wishes for. Some chocolate cake and ice cream, maybe even some balloons would be cool. ![]() I can name several people who wish I was never born. Especially after you come into this world and fuck it all up. Hard to celebrate the day you were born when everybody seems to wish you were never born at all. Guess birthdays don’t mean nothing in a group home. That chick was mad crazy, but I’m the one with words like “rage tendencies” all over my file.Īnyways, I’ve been in this home of seven girls for the past three months and not one birthday has ever been mentioned. My birthday gift, a black eye and a bruised rib from Shantell in the cafeteria, just for breathing in her direction. They didn’t throw me a party then either. I was still in baby jail on my last milestone, my thirteenth birthday. That’s what you’re supposed to do, right? Celebrate birthdays, especially milestones like sixteen. I wonder if they’ll do anything to celebrate. I’m the youngest, so of course I get the top bunk. I climb off the top bunk and Herbert wakes, following me into the bathroom. well, I don’t know what you’d call her, and hopefully you’ll never need to. “Mary! Mary! What in the hell are you doing? Get down here now!” Just one of those ankle bracelets given by the state so they can follow me around like the sun. Three pairs of jeans, one pair of black pants, five summer shirts, five winter shirts, one sweater, and a hoodie. Being a chronic unwanted guest can really suck.Īt night, Herbert sleeps on top of the crooked molding that frames my closet, home to the few items of clothing I own. But just like me, someone is always coming up behind him, shooing him away with the back of a hand. Just like me, he wants to live a quiet life, nibble on some scraps, and be left alone. Keeps a low profile, never begging for unnecessary attention. I’m surprised in a houseful of delinquents, no one has killed him yet. He’s a baby fly, not one of those noisy horseflies, so no one notices him until he zooms in front of your face and lands near your orange juice. They don’t let convicted murderers have pets in the group home. It’s Sunday and he’s still around, bouncing from room to room like he’s the family pet. Mary is Rhoda’s story, personified, begging the question: was there something that made her snap, or was the evil dormant all along?Ī fly got in the house on Monday. Even in present day, the act is unfathomable. People couldn’t conceive of a child being capable of murder. The film was horrific for its time, a villain played by a young girl, appearing as innocent as any other. The adorable Rhoda, a blue-eyed, blond-haired princess skips around the film in pigtails and baby doll dresses, killing anyone who won’t let her have her way. ![]() It is the story of an eight-year-old girl, sweet and seemingly innocent, the prize of her picture-perfect family, whose mother suspects is a murderer. This type of child is perfectly depicted in the classic 1950s film The Bad Seed, based on the novel by William March. These children are sociological phenomena. It’s not a scientifically proven inheritable trait. One cannot blame their surroundings or upbringings for their behavior. ![]() These are the children that don’t live up to the statistics. Some children are just born bad, plain and simple. Keep scrolling below to start reading the first three chapters of ALLEGEDLYbefore the book goes on sale January 24th, 2017, and don’t forget to add it to your Goodreads shelf! CHAPTER 1Įxcerpt from Babies Killing Babies: Profiles of Preteen and Teen Murderers by Jane E. Jackson follows the story of a girl convicted of murder seeking the truth while surviving life in a group home. Jackson’s Allegedly is Orange Is the New Black meets Walter Dean Myer’s Monster. This gritty, twisty, and haunting debut by Tiffany D. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |