mannequinn

“Mannequinn” Michael Pallante


“I'm sick.” She said plainly.

Mother dismissed her, busy navigating the rainy pre-dawn streets of suburbia.

With a pained sigh Daria rested her head in her palm, eyes closed, breath shallow. She tried to lose herself in solitude, letting the mini van's dull hum lull her away. From across the seat her younger sister reached out in abject pity; Daria shrunk away with a scathing glare.

Singing a morose melody through her teeth Daria mocked, “ Misssssed me, misssssed me now you gotta...”

Quinn shied away.

“Daria, no..” she pleaded in a whisper, looking up to watch the rain fall on the window before offering a defeated, “ 'm Sorry.”

The car finally stopped, though neither girl bothered to view their surroundings. When neither girl seemed inclined to leave on their own Mother urged them out, “ That's it. We're here.”

Rain struck the roof in a steady patter patter.

A ring tone tore through the interior, jerking the listless sisters into cogency. Mother rushed instructions for Quinn to keep Daria in line, stepping outside to take the call.

Barely glancing across the seat Quinn whispered “Daria.. Can you look at me? Please?” As though Mother were listening from the front seat.

“ I'm sick.” Daria repeated.

“ I know...” Quinn sighed, “ I'm sorry. I know you are. But we're here for you. Maybe this will make you better.”

Grinding metal preceded a dull click and the car door opened. Daria turned to Quinn, her eyes fire.

Daria sneered, “ Stop trying so hard.”

“ I'm sorry.”

“ In fact. Just stop trying.” And Daria trudged into the wet Fall morning.

Amid raindrops splashing rhythmically on leather Quinn lamented, “ You know I can never.” With nothing left she followed Daria into the darkness.



When the girls were gone their Mother stepped out of the rain and drove from the gates Lawndale High School.

Mud churned beneath their feat as the two girls approached an isolated block of glass and concrete- bereft of the faculty and students. The cold unforgiving facade did little to ease the youngest's apprehension about the strangeness therein. Sickly yellow gradients spotted the morning mist leading her to concrete mezzanine housing a set polished glass doors.

Without back light they were opal mirrors. In the blackened glass Daria saw her silhouette shudder, “ Just the temperature.” she thought. A colorless reflection confronted her but would not yeild when she pressed against the door.

“ Locked.” she complained.

“ Intercom...” Quinn motioned to a small box with a speaker. As Quinn tried to raise anyone on the intercom Daria receded into the concrete archway's far corners and took a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. The crackling spark of a match later, smoke rolled like oppressive fog between them. The younger girl choked, stepping into the rain.

“ Shouldn't smoke, you know.” she reminded, covering her mouth, “Could get in trouble Daria... its our first day.”

“ Nobody's here.” Daria said flippantly between drags.

“ I'm sorry.”

Heels clicked in the cool morning air.

Through wet smoky mist emerged the lean silhouette of an adult woman, shrewd as she was short, and economical in aesthetic from her women's business suit to her compact size.

“Put that fucking cigarette out.” She said casually, otherwise ignoring the girls.

Stepping into the dry cove the woman keyed open the door. She was halfway through the threshold when a voice stopped her.

“ You know...” Daria started venomously.

“ Daria!” Quinn tried to whisper, but it came out a hiss.

Turning to the woman in the sharp suit Quinn apologized, stumbling on her words, “...Sorry. She's sorry.... its just, its that...”

“ You know, you're not supposed to talk to us like that.” Daria said curtly.

Quinn backed away from a familiar scene.

The woman stepped toward the girls, explaining in a dull tone, “ If you want me to go 'on the clock' then its a mandatory five hundred dollar fine and minimum two day suspension for smoking on school grounds. Your call.”

Daria reluctantly capitulated- snuffing the cigarette with mute disdain.

With a heavy sigh the woman said, “ Your first day you said? You must be the Morgendorffer sisters. You're a bit early, the school doesn't open until seven.”

Quinn regained composure and stepped out of the rain, “ Our mom has to be at work at seven and she wanted to make sure... Uh, we made it to school.”

The older child's face faded.

“ I see. I'm Principal Li. ” she responded to Quinn's horror, “Nice to meet you both, I'm sure. Well why don't you come inside? Mrs. Chandler will be in shortly to get you started. You can wait in the main office.” She proceeded without waiting for a reply, clearly expecting them to follow.

The lights were off and the halls washed in black; Quinn and Daria blindly followed the click of Ms Li's pumps. The first bell more than two hours away the school was a still grave.

Harsh fluorescent bulbs fluttered on in the main office, casting everything in an unflattering light. The two girls shuffled in, Daria leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her chest- Quinn waiting quietly by the door. Ms Li walked directly to the automatic coffee maker, pressing the start button.

“ Quinn right?” She said, looking to the younger sister with pumpkin hair and a country smile, “ You can have a seat for a moment. Ms. Chandler should be in soon. Daria, please step into the office.”

Ms Li waited for Daria to enter the office before following, locking the door behind them.

“I'd rather you d-d-didn't l-l-lock the door.” Daria stammered.

“Force of habit.” She admitted, flicking the lock open again.

Ms. Li sat, drawing a bulky envelope from a desk drawer. Daria recognized the return address. Highland Texas.

“ I take an interest in every one of my students, Daria. I'm proud of that. I may not know each of them personally, but I do make the effort.”

Daria wilted, shrinking in her chair.

“...So after you and Quinn transfered here and I read your records from Highland. I.. I thought it might be prudent for us to have a brief chat before you started the year.”

Daria shuddered, hid her hands in pockets and stared at the floor- voice crumbling on her lips, “ I think I know what this is about.”

Ms Li nodded.

“ Your expulsion from Highland. Look, I'll make this easy. You don't have to talk or explain. Just let me know you understand.”

Daria managed a nod.

“ Thank you, as I've said, I read your records from Texas.”

Ms Li watched Daria bring shaking fingers to her mouth and pick at dry lips.

“ I want to let you know that the policies on sexual harassment are the same in Lawndale as they are in Highland. Zero tolerance. For students and faculty. That's not a threat. That's not a warning. Its simply a fact. But I want to make sure we areclear.”

The girl nodded, chewing her fingertips.

“ I don't think I have to go into detail. You're probably more familiar with sexual harassment policies than you ever thought you would be. That being said, and I hope you don't take offense to this but, we're not Texas. People here are a lot more tolerant of differences. No one is going to..”

Daria jerked, sitting up in the chair, hands steady fingers gripping the wood, “ I'm not a lesbian, Ms. Li.”

“....And the girls' parents filed no charges so...”

“ Flirting isn't a crime.” She cut in, words on fire.

“ Of course not.” Ms Li responded defensively, “Daria, I may be a lot of things but one thing I'm not is blind. You and I both know what the reality here is.”

“ And you wanted to make sure you covered your ass and handled the slutty little dyke so you have deniability when I fuck up. Mission accomplished. I can go now.” She started to rise.

“ No. You can't. And watch your language. Daria, I don't want to lecture you...”

Daria froze mid step.

“ I just want to let you know that if you need anything, if you want to talk my office door is always open to you.”

“ Do you want to fuck me, too? Is that it?”

Ms. Li turned away, gesturing to the door, “Go and wait with your sister. Help your self to the coffee.”

With the heavy crash of a door Daria was gone.



Leaving the office, she saw Quinn loosing country charm on Ms. Chandler, who shook with tawdry laughter.

“ Oh! This must be our other new Junior.” bubbled the woman upon noticing Daria, “ If you're half as charming as your sister then we're a lucky bunch now aren't we!” she added, smiling through her teeth.

“ Mm.” Daria acknowledged, helping herself to a Styrofoam cup of coffee, black no sugar.

“ Um...” The woman behind the desk started.

“ Ms. Li said it was OK.” Daria muttered before testing the brew on her lips. Still too hot.

“ Oh, well I guess that's alright. Its pretty early. Can't have you girls falling asleep in homeroom!” She replied.

Daria joined them at the desk.

“So you two are twins?” Mrs. Chandler said exuberantly.

“ No. I'm a year older.” Daria uttered between sips.

“ She missed a year in middle school.” Quinn added as Daria passed her the cup.

“ Nothing to be ashamed of, kiddo.” Said the secretary though a plastic grin.

“Mm.”

Mrs. Chandler filled them in on the basics. They were two weeks behind, but tutors could be made available. A torrent of minutia ensued, much to the girl's irritation. A burdensome amount of paperwork and regulations piled before them, class schedules among the chaos. Each bemoaned the three hour block class structure.

“ Hay... wait, there's a mistake.” Quinn said, looking at Daria's itinerary, “ We're supposed... I mean we should have the same schedule. Daria's is different.”

Daria's face drained as she listened.

“Hmm... this is what the computer has listed. School probably didn't want you two spending the entire day with each other.” Mrs. Chandler explained.

Quinn's hands met the desk with a sharp slap, “ No you don't understand, we're supposed to have the same classes...”

“ Well, you share Algebra in the third rotation if...”

Daria tried to interject, “Excuse me...”

“ My mom called last week to set it up.” Quinn cast a side glance at Daria, “ Its... Its a medical thing.”

Mrs. Chandler's manners faltered; she talked to Quinn like a chiding mother,“ Well this is what you were assigned.”

Quinn's face burnt with frustration.

“ Medical thing? Are you sick Quinn...” Daria seethed..

“ Daria ... not now.” Quinn whispered. After a deep breath she played country girl once more, “ Look, you can call my mom and change the schedules. There's at least an hour before school.”

“ Uh... hold on a second...” Daria went unnoticed.

Mrs. Chandler explained, to Quinn's dismay, only the school counselor could change the schedule and she wouldn't arrive until past noon.

“ But there's nothing we can do, until then. You two will have to follow the schedules through lunch. They're set on the teacher manifests and in the computer. The books are already assigned... Its only for half a day dear.”

Quinn struggled to understand. With a weak defeated voice she repeated, “But.. Its a mistake. I'm supposed to go where she does.”

Mrs. Chandler apologized, “ I'm sorry, you can't. Not right now at least.”

Quinn looked over her shoulder to apologize to Daria, but she was gone.

“Fuck.” she whispered.

Stumbling over herself to the door, Quinn spilling through it to the empty hall.

Quinn stalked the halls as the lights came on and faculty poured in. When the main bulk of classrooms produced nothing she made her way to the nurse's office. A flush face and shaking hands worried the nurse, but first day jitters were sufficient to placate the woman, who had not seen a brown haired girl with glasses wearing a green coat.

Quinn descended to the basement through doors marked Staff Only. Dim, dismal concrete snaked off into a maze. She got to her knees and searched under tables, behind pipes in the pump room and in the dark secret corners of off limits maintenance hallways and sub basements.

Quinn climbed back to the main building, returning to the main archway, rubbing her forehead to soothe the mounting headache. Her hands, blackened with dirt and machine room grease, marred her face. Cursing, she let herself go limp against the wall and slide to the ground. Several of the swelling student body gave her an odd look and the urge to cry built in her throat. Panic and fear soon followed but she bit it all back, convincing herself it was simply a game of hide and seek. She swore she could remember playing with Daria at least once or twice when they were kids, or maybe she just wished she could. When the bell rang she could yell out ollyollyoxenfree and there Daria would stand in smirking victory.

A cloud of smoke rose from the barren lot across the street and Quinn walked toward it.

Through the current of students Quinn saw a crushed girl in a green jacket smoking a cigarette. She cautiously approached, finding Daria sitting on a gray stone, her hand shaking as it sent smoldering embers in every direction.

“ You shouldn't smoke.” Quinn said, afraid to say anything else.

Daria turned and tossed the empty pack to her. Which Quinn let drop to the ground.

“ Read'm. Says risk of low birth weight.” She half-laughed, “ Think I'll have to worry 'bout kids after Texas?”

A pained look washed over Quinn's face as she retrieved the pack from wet cement and took a step closer, standing over her sister's shoulder, taking a long look at the empty lot before them.

“ When's it gonna stop, Daria?” she said finally.

“ Never, I reckon.”

The younger girl wiped grease from her face, not looking down at her sister.

“ Why you always tryin' to follow me?” Daria asked.

Quinn looked away and tried to swallow back the lump in her throat, “ Almost lost you once.”

“ No ya din't. Was raped. Not killed.” Daria said with a familiar drawl.

“Not just raped. Ripped apart.” Quinn thought, but dared not say.

Tears spilled over Quinn's cheeks “ Sometimes...” She sniffed and tried to turn off the pain, “ Sometimes I think maybe I did lose you.” she sobbed, “ If I keep on trying though I might just...”

“ Look just stop following me, y'hear?” Daria winced, her accent always betrayed her when upset, “ Y'all can't keep followin' me 'round. Jus' lemme alone. Y'can't go where I am anyway.”

The first bell rang and a wave of teenagers poured into the school, a step behind them Daria and Quinn.

Daria walked to class, occasionally looking over her shoulder the only footsteps behind her those of other students. She arrived early and took a seat in the back. Other students milled about the room and held conversations. Content to be alone she lay a fresh notebook on her desk, meaning to prepare it for class. Her mind wandered and half remembered phrases, song lyrics and teenage minutia filled the page. She grew lost in the ambiguity, people, places, things and-

A tall gentleman in a tie intruded by laying The Essential World History on Daria's desk and introducing himself. She hastily scratched out something she'd penned in her notebook margin. The man showed as much enthusiasm for the conversation as Daria showed gratitude for the textbook. He returned to the front of class as the bell tolled. Students took their seats and the lecture ensued, drowning out the sound of whispered conversations and pages turning.

Daria took notes dispassionately for nearly twenty minutes as the teacher summarized yesterday's lesson, presumably for Daria's benefit. When finally he turned to the blackboard and began the new lesson Daria looked down at the word she had struck from the margins.



“Mannequinn”



Drowning in Algebra, Quinn groaned with frustration. Variables confounded her- she had never found the balance to the equation. Embarrassment washed over her face as she looked to her math partner Stacy, “ Do you get any of this?”

Stacy sighed in relief, “I thought I was the only one. This is complete shit.”

Quinn chewed her pencil mulling over the example problems in the text, baffled by the end results though they were the only possible solution. Without Daria to show her the way Algebra was like diving head first into the ocean and touching the muddy base.

Throwing her book down Stacy complained, “ Why are we even trying to figure it out if there's no real answer anyway?”

Quinn slumped in her chair, arms folded over her chest and pencil dangling from her lips, “ The best you can do is make it all equal, but what the fuck is the point of that?” The teacher gave her a warning glance and Quinn shifted to a whisper, “ Do you think we should ask for help? I don't see how else we're ever going to finish this stuff...” Stacy dismissed the idea.

“Reckon we'll figure it out ourselves then.” Quinn lamented.

Avoiding classwork, Stacy commented “ Uh...I like your accent.”

Quinn hid her embarrassment, pencil dropping from her mouth, “I do not have an accent.”

“ Well not much of one, but its there under the surface. With certain words and stuff.”

“ I said I do not have an accent!”

“ You do! You're doing it right now! You say-eed you do nawwwt have an ayax-ent!”

Quinn rolled her eyes, “ You're freakin' impossible. You know that?”

Smirking behind her book, Stacy started, “You can take the girl out of Texas...”

“...but you can't take Texas out of the girl” Quinn finished ruefully.



“History...” He said, putting down his chalk and turning to the class, “What is history? Anyone?” No student volunteered their hand, if any listened at all, “ On the most basic level, History is the study of the past.” He stated with annoyance.

Daria's eyes returned to nagging misspelled word.

“ Why is it important to study things that have already happened? We can't change them...”

She rewrote it, “Mannequinn.” Mouthing the strange word silently.

“ We can't change the things that happened, but they're important to study because they explain the world we live in.”

The word felt sinister and she shifted in her chair- growing uncomfortable.

“ History is responsible for what is happening now and what is going to happen in the future. We can see this in our own lives. For example...” the teacher selected a random student, “ What events lead you to Lawndale. And where do you imagine going to school here will take you?”

Daria mouthed the word to herself, “Manne-kin, manne-kin.”, a queer sickness twisting in her stomach. The world fell as far away, the classroom sounds only an echo. “Kin.” Blood rushed to her face, she was fire. “Quinn.”

Muffled monologues reverberated in the distance. Welling tears turned the classroom blurred haze. Everything was in the distances; Daria was alone in the void.

Across a schism someone asked, “Daria...How did you get to Lawndale?”

Miles away a voice like her own sounded.

“Daria.” he repeated, “ Why are you in Lawndale?”

She stood up casually, said “I'm sick.” and walked out the door.



Room temperature water splashed in a cracked sink; Daria let it run over her fingers and pool in cupped hands, drinking from them. She spat, washing the grit of bile from her teeth. Eyes pinched shut and she leaned against the porcelain for support. She heaved, stomach convulsing, twisting in torturous knots, but she had nothing to give. A distant bell shred through her and she crashed onto sticky tile, hands stuck to the murky film coating the floor. She opened her eyes to slits, ceiling lights sent piercing beats of agony though her temples. Trying to find “up” Daria grabbed hold of the sink.

She needed help.

Uneven stumbling down empty hallways carried Daria, dragging against cold gray walls, to the nurse's door. The motion tied her stomach in a ball, but closing her eyes and reaching out, she found the handle, shuddering at the click of metal.

The nurse nearly fell over her desk rushing to Daria, easing her in. The word “migraine” barely made it from Daria's lips before the nurse returned to her desk, leaving the girl leaning blind and shaking against the wall.

“Here, take these...” the nurse whispered, laying two aspirin in Daria's open palm.

Water was neither desired or necessary.

“Open your mouth, swallow.” she thought amid the static haze.

Vaguely aware of a pair of arms guiding her somewhere Daria followed. Her uneven gate and floundering equilibrium made no simple task of reaching the bed in the corner, but somehow she managed. Lights dimmed somewhere and let she herself fall onto rough cracked plastic. She lay still, and the room was spun; she held her skull, and it cracked.



In the squirming mass of chatting, balking, laughing students Quinn sat, eyes flowing over unfamiliar faces adding to the cafeteria melee. She anchored the ebb and flow of children in still poise, the lunch line forgone until her sister would arrive. When Stacy joined her at the barren table Quinn failed to notice, still searching, unreachable on guilt's farthest peninsula. By tenacity, however, she was reeled in close to the well of conversation. Stacy's patience not easily overcome Quinn found herself on solid ground among the others, talking freely.

A long dormant acumen came to life. The ease by which a friendly person soothed years of loneliness overwhelmed her. They spoke inconsequentially of school dynamics and homework, trading anecdotes important only in the other's listening. The currents swam beautifully between them.

Stacy made a friendly gesture- placing her hand on Quinn's.



Color drained from Quinn's face and guilt flooded her senses.

Her mistake clear, she stood without apology and headed for the door.



She walked quiet halls as students lingered at lockers- all of them unfamilar to her. Searching without guide for Daria she turned corners leading to empty rooms. Unnoticed by students or faculty Quinn stumbled along endlessly, finding nothing.

Trudging through wet grass to an empty lot her thoughts were grim. Looming clouds blacked out the sky, the nothing surrounding her. The gray slab Daria sat on in the morning was cold to the touch. Resting her head on the unforgiving rock she whimpered, “Never.”

Wet slaps of mud splashed her ankles running back to the school. Her legs burned, though went nowhere. Circles through the halls with no end when a blind aching sprint at ended painfully. The violent smack of flesh on flesh sent Quinn reeling to the hard tile.

“ Woah! Are you alright? Made me drop my stuff!” Asked a tall thin girl with black hair. She knelt picking up a backpack, coat and glasses.

“Yeah I just... I'm sorry. I was running too hard and-” Quinn lost her breath and snatched furiously at the items in the girls hands, “ These aren't yours.”

The girl replied offended, “ Think I'd carry around this ugly shit? Its some crazy chick's. Ran out of my History class to the nurse. It was hilarious. Teacher forced me to bring her bags for laughing.”

Quinn bundled the belongings around her, “ She's my sister.”

“Oh. Then you do it.”

Ignoring her, Quinn hugged the mess to her chest and left the girl far behind her.



Quinn passed timidly into the nurse's office. Her voice was rough.“ My sister...” she started.

“Shh.” The nurse hissed, bringing a finger to her lips. Her eyes motioned to the corner where Daria lay in seclusion.

“What's wrong?” Her voice shook with uncertainty.

“Poor girl has a migraine. Resting now, though.” Said the nurse casually.

“ Did you give her anything?”

“Just some aspirin. Turned the lights down, too.”

“Can I talk to her?” Quinn asked.

“ I was about to check on her. You feel free sweety.”

Quinn nodded and laid Daria's belongings near the Nurse's desk. She crept Daria's side, kneeling as she lay a hand on her sister's shoulder to rouse her. Daria was already awake, her naked eyes burning.

The younger sister moved to retrieve Daria's glasses but was halted by the touch of Daria's fingers on her own. They were fire on Quinn's cold skin. The touch lingered until their hands locked.

“ I'm sorry Daria.” Quinn whispered, “ Migraine?”

Daria nodded, shutting her eyes.

“D'ja throw up?”

The pained look on her face was clear.

“ One of those again.” Quinn sighed in awe, “Feelin' any better?”

A weak voice answered, “ A lil'. Hurts less. Reckon I weren't ready f'this.”

Quinn brought Daria's hands to her lips, kissing them, “ Was worried.”

“ So ya' followed me 'gain. I told ya t'stop that mess.”” Daria snapped.

Quinn's voice buckled under its own weight “I'm sorry. What else is there for me to do Daria?”

“Give up I s'pose.”

“I can't.” Quinn looked over her shoulder, the nurse gone.

Daria sighed, squeezing her sister's hand, “ Should'a been you, you know?”

Quinn said nothing.

“ I mean you're the pretty one and all.”

A tortured grimace marred Quinn's face, “ Why do you hate me so much Daria?”

The older girl released her sister's hands and turned away, “ Y'make me hate myself. With all your pity. Your sympathy. All your doting. I embarrass you. You make me hate myself so much sometimes. In everything you do you remind me that she took me. Not you. I hate you for that. Not for surviving... but for your fucking pity.”

Quinn buried her head in her arms, “ What do you want from me then?”

“What do you want from me?” Daria seethed.

Quinn replied, broken,“ I want you back. I'll always be alone without you, Daria.”

“ If that's a promise I'll hold you to it.” she said dryly.

Daria turned to her little sister, lifting her face from piteous ruin, “ You really are pretty. Really.” The backs of her fingers glided over smooth wet cheeks.

Quinn burned in anxiety, “ Daria...”

“I want you to stop trying to understand. Please. You're too pretty to worry like this.” She ran her fingertips through puddles of tears, and spread them on Quinn's lips.

“Daria don't...”

A child's voice answered, “I know what you want from me.”

Quinn shook in denial, tears streaming, “ Daria d-”

Daria tasted the tears on her sister's lips, tongue snaking over glistening pale flesh. Exploring Quinn's salty pink mouth without resistance. The younger girl tried to return the kiss with blunt immature motions before simply letting Daria guide her. Her sister's tongue was soft and slick against her own. Finally following deep enough, islands of guilt began disappearing; calm seas swallowing their sandy shores.

Reverie did not last long. Wrenching herself from Daria's embrace she feel back and spit shared saliva on grimy tile. The queer churning in her stomach threatened to spill over. Daria smirked at the horror on in her sister's eyes

Daria laughed, “You don't have any idea what you want from me. Do you.”



The bells rang in steady runic meter until the final one told the days end.



Two sisters met at the front of the school and shared a wordless walk home. They approached the new and unfamiliar facade of a modest suburban house. With calculated nonchalance the younger broke the silence

“ Mom wants our rooms unpacked by the time she gets home.”

The elder Sister nodded.

“... We've got a real chance in this town. It can be like Texas never happened.” Quinn grimaced.

Daria made no reply and walked calmly towards home, her sister only steps behind.

The younger girl flashed a sweet, innocent smile to her Sister, sidestepping in front, miming a comforting gesture- reaching for Daria's shoulder but freezing inches from contact. A vicious glare insured safe distance.

“Mom fixed our schedules, by the way. Tomorrow is Thursday. I think we have the same math class. Maybe you can help me? I know you're good at math. Will you help?”

“ Think about it.” Daria lied.

The two retired to their rooms to unpack.



Daria floated amid pale boxes sealed with tape.

She reflected dully on the day, retrieving a razor blade from her backpack.

Mother forbade her knives since Texas, but Daria secreted them away when prudent.

“Daria, why are you in Lawndale?” Daria repeated out loud, dragging the blade through packing tape.

“ You must have an interesting story...” She continued, verbatim. The box held an assortment of greatly varied objects. She set to the task of distributing them through the room.

“History is responsible for what is happening now and what is going to happen in the future.” Daria fumbled with the words but not the razor as she cut into a new box. A picture of her father rested neatly on top of scattered of objects from Highland.

“ We can see this in our own lives. ” Mother had told her to leave all the ugliness in Texas.

“ Why are you in Lawndale?” She said as another box lid came off with wild slashes.

The razor flew effortlessly through seas of packing tape and Texas spilled randomly into Lawndale with the opening of every coffin she'd sealed. The emptying boxes threatened to drown her in Ugliness. The new life building around her looked very much the old. The New life. New life from a barren girl.

She raged, “Texas! Texas!” hands trembled cutting the final lid free.

“ How did you get to Lawndale?” She asked in a wet scream- the blade catching on adhesive.

“ Texas!” she repeated yanking the stuck blade.

“ Fucking Texas...” Came out a weak sob as she wrenched her hands up, the blade ripping through her palm; blood rolling over clenched fingers like she were squeezing life from small creature.

Looking down she saw her nightgown, folded neatly in the box, showered in warm blood.



The dull metallic click of a locked door.

She did not hear herself scream, though someone came running to her door in horror.

A leathery middle aged woman.

The dull sensation of falling to the floor did not register as she recoiled from the box, kicking it away furiously.

With cold hands.

Screaming through fist fulls of blood she found herself wrapped in Quinn's arms, who shouted strange, unfamiliar words.

The blood between her legs.

Shrieking babble poured over her as she fought against Quinn's restraint.

Blinding red and blue lights.

The world turned to swirls of light and she realized she was screaming back.

A screeching siren.

She was talking. Shouting. Crying.



“ I know what you want!” She hissed with a hoarse and blubbering voice. Spit blood painted her sister's face. She watched tears streaked red on Quinn's cheek and saw her sister's mouth move, but heard nothing. She felt her hands forced down and a great weight descend. Daria's eyes fixed on the blood spattered young waif trying to save her.

With a piercing wail Daria lunged, fought, ripped, writhed, raged, and cried until she felt Quinn fall beneath her. She looked down at a frightened child- aware only of the hard smack of her skull on the floor. The wet slapping of her fists. The churning crunch of a broken nose. Sloppy sounds of violence meshed in brutal cacophony.

She loosed hate upon the child until arms were numb. Until she could hurt her no more. Until collapse.

Daria heaved, exhausted from the effort of Quinn's disfigurement. The child drowned in blood, gasping for breath through broken teeth- her nose caved in and eye swollen shut.

Quinn half watched a twisted smile play on her sister's face. Then felt a soft tickle at her belt and the serrated sound of a zipper.

“ I love you.” Quinn said through deep, wet breaths.

“ That doesn't stop me from hating you.” Daria sobbed, “ I'm sick.”

“ I know...” Quinn barely said beneath her sister,“ But I'm here for you. And maybe this will make us better.”