Page 37 of Make Me Scream

“Fucking hell.”

Gwen sneers.

“Yeah, that’s where he said I’m going, pretty much every day.”

“He ever do anything physical?”

She drinks her next shot, grimacing. She’s going to make herself sick. I take the bottle and pour myself another, and leave it out of her reach.

“No, he left that to Mom. She’d smack us upside the head, slap us, throw things at us.”

I don’t even know what to say.

“Not enough to put us in the hospital, you know? But we’d have bruises. I’d feel my heart race when I heard her climb the stairs fast. If me or Dennis got emotional, she’d laugh in our faces, tell us to get used to the real world or some bullshit.”

“That’s horrible, Gwen. Both of them should be… I’m not even going to say.”

She points at the rum.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking sure.”

I pour her one last shot.

“I’ll say it, Lane: they should both die in a fire. They’re dead to me.”

“Yeah.”

She has every right to resent them, to condemn them. If I grew up in a home like that, there is zero chance I’d be as well-adjusted as her.

“And fuck Dennis, too,” she adds. “He still lives with them but spends most of the time with his schizo friends. Larry and Matt. Fucking douchebags. Dennis let them hit on me, didn’t give a shit. They’d set off fireworks in the middle of the night, do whip-its, vandalize homes. Dennis once tried to steal beer for them and got caught. Mom and Dad lost their minds, screamed at him all night.”

“Did you have anyone you could turn to for help? Any friends, or other relatives?”

Gwen shrugs.

“There were people I hung out with, but I wouldn’t call them friends. Horny guys who wouldn’t leave me alone. Girls who wanted the same thing as me: to get out of Ohio. No one I could count on if I went back.”

“I see.”

Nodding, I wonder how much of this Mundell knows, or suspects. How much of her past could he recognize in her art? It’s ghoulish to believe he’d use that desperation against her, but considering Gwen’s defiant personality… he would go as far as needed.

Well, he’s not the only one.

“You can’t go home or leave Mundell Academy, and putting your artistic dreams on hold is not a palatable option,” I say. “There’s one other possibility to consider.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“You take a page out of Alistair Rat’s book and stop appearing in your pieces personally. You set them up and observe the results, like he did. And you don’t take credit for them as Enmity Jane. You create a new persona.”

Gwen leans back in her seat, taking in the idea. Distaste claws at her expression, but it’s paired with a burgeoning sense of reluctant acceptance.

“It wouldn’t be the same.”

“True, but think of Alistair. His early work wasn’t the same as his later work. He evolved as needed. And, unless Enmity Jane is willing to wait a few years to resurface, she needs to evolve too.”

She grunts, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

---