Page 3 of Give Me Perfect Love

He has black hair that’s too long, and I look nothing like him. Because like he said, I’m not his.

Mama was in love with someone else at one time. Maybe that’s who she thinks about when she looks off like she does. He’s just as bad as the man I don’t belong to, though, just in a different way. Because where has he been the last eight years?

I gaze out at the only thing that’s left of Mama’s choice. White smoke emits from his tailpipe.

I wonder if other parents act the way mine do? I’ve spent the night with a few friends from time to time, and their parents seemed to get along better, or maybe it’s just because I was there.

People tend to hide their true selves around others.

My eyes wander to the edge of the window on the outside. I watch as individual flakes land on it.

They say that every snowflake is different, that no two are the same. But just like Mama says everything does, the snowflakes disappear.

Chapter Two

Kathrine

Ten years later

I didn’t go see the movie that day, and my mama left six months later. She herself turned into a snowflake and my nightmare deepened.

I was only eight years old.

How she got away still baffles me. She didn’t have a job that I knew of and no money. I woke up one morning, and she was gone. My stepdad was sitting in his chair with his hand wrapped around a bottle and a burning smoke hanging between his lips.

And all that anger he had for her has turned toward me. As I grew from a little girl to a teenager, I discovered who he really was. He sells drugs, and the house that was once bearable when Mama was here has become horrific.

The older I get, the worse it gets. As soon as I was able, I knew I needed to make money so I could leave just like she did.

I’m devastated that she left me, but then I get angry and that gives me a drive like no other. I’ve gotten a job at the local diner, and no one has questioned the fact I should be in school while I’m serving them coffee at ten in the morning. I skip class a lot, but I still manage to make the grades.

The thing about a poor, small town is everybody has their own bad problems, so they don’t meddle in yours. They may talk about it, but that’s all they’ll do because they know their life is shit, too.

Small-town living also means no one pays attention, especially to my bruises. Hell, I’m not the only one with them.

I quickly learned those fairy-tale movies my mama took me to see were full of shit.

Life is hard, and the only person who’s going to rescue you, is you. Sometimes, we have no choice but to grow up even when we’re too young to do so.

I cling on to turning eighteen and disappearing. My stash of money is a light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. It helps me sleep at night and gets me up the next day so I can add to it.

I’m just getting off work, tired and wishing I could go anywhere but here. Old wood sticks to old paint when I twist the knob with my apron in my hands and tonight’s earnings in its pockets. I hit my shoulder against the door, almost falling face-first when it gives, stumbling into the house. A quarter falls from my apron and rolls across the worn wooden floors, spinning until it settles heads down. I bend to get it, but midway I realize I’m not alone.

And then my eyes land on him. I freeze. My heart fissures and my mouth waters from the threat of vomit.

No.

No, no, no.

“Planning on going somewhere?” he asks as he leans back in his chair, a joint between his fingers and my money spread out across the particleboard.

I can’t speak. I’m too angry with myself.

Dumb girl.

You really thought he wouldn’t go searching?Why didn’t I hide it better? I want to throw myself onto the floor and bang it with my fist. I want to scream and run over and grab my money from his filthy hands.

“You know, I had a feeling you were saving up. I mean, what else have you been doing with the money you make at that dump? Definitely not helping me with the fucking bills.”

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