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Love never used to drive much, but she has taken up the habit ever since James died. There was a freedom to it, speeding down empty roads in the dead of night. She’d find little tucked away corners of the city. Places people like her never went to. That’s where she discovered the best food. Donuts, tacos, dumplings. All made with ingredients and techniques she’d never heard of before. That’s what she told herself she was doing. Hunting down inspiration for new recipes.
She tried not to let the fear get to her - that feat that comes when a young girl visits seedy places alone. She hoped no one recognized her and decided that her parents would pay a pretty fine to bring her home safely. Maybe it was that edge that drove her to worse and worse places. After all, that was where the most unique tastes were hidden.
Tonight, her grip on the steering wheel was white. No matter how loud she turned the music, she couldn’t get her mother’s screams out of her head.
“What the hell, Love! Where have you been?”
It had been so long, she had almost forgotten her mom could sound like that. She had been spoiled living with James. But now, he was gone, and she was living with that brat again.
“Forty, get inside.”
“But I-“
“Forty, now.”
She just wanted him out of there. He couldn’t handle Mom right now. Not after he had just relapsed again. The last time was bad enough, she wasn’t going to let her parents find out it happened again. Not after she promised them it wouldn’t.
There was hesitation in Forty’s eyes, but he did as he was told. They both knew that Love was the only one who could talk down Mom. And she had, listening to her mom scream and complain about how no one helps around the shop. As if it wasn’t Love and Forty running the place every day. She had asked Mom to watch it for an hour while she went to get Forty. It had taken an hour to get him washed up and another two to get him sober enough to come back.
Her jacket had remnants of Forty’s mess, so she left it in the car. Love stood shivering in her sleeveless dress as she took her mother’s bashing, not saying a word.
She couldn’t afford to go into work the next day with a red cheek.
The only way to make Mom calm down was for Love to break down. So, Love let the screaming run over her until she was sobbing. Mom’s arms opened as Love’s apathetic apologies made Mom feel like she had accomplished something. Love explained it all away, not defending the hours she has spent helping her brother. Simply acknowledging them and begging for her mother’s forgiveness. So Mom could play the merciful mother and grant it.
And then Love went driving. Her brother was spiraling, her mother was spiraling, everything was spiraling. Around and around in her mind as she took the curves a little too fast. She had only let herself cry as much as she needed to. Her mother had not earned anything more than crocodile tears. Even now when no one was around to see, those waves of emotions never made it to her eyes.
She hated feeling this way. So out of control. There was nothing she could do - no recipe to fix her family. All she could do was drive away. Even if she knew all the roads led straight back to Anavrin.
Up ahead, her beams lit up a small figure on the road. An opossum. She hasn’t seen many, but she recognized the white fur instantly. It was in the middle of the street, anxiously staring at her with green, reflecting eyes.
She watched it as her car sped towards it. If they both did nothing, nothing would happen. But if it panicked and tried to flee across the road in front of her, she'd hit it. As long as they both stayed calm, the animal would be fine. Nothing would happen.
Love swerved. She has just enough time to see the opossum react to her sudden change in direction before she felt the car hit it. There were two bumps, and then she was past it.
That wasn’t good enough.
She wanted to park immediately, but the road turned into a small bridge. She waited until she had crossed to stop. Then, she grabbed her purse and turned on her phone flashlight as she got out of the car. There was no one around for miles, so she walked right down the middle of the road. The trees rose up black and unmoving around her. Clouds covered the moon, so the only light came from her phone.
She made it across the bridge on foot, but there was no sign of the opossum. It hadn’t felt like she had driven that far. Had she not hit it that hard? Had it run off?
She walked for a few more paces until her flashlight caught something up ahead. A small, white slump. Approaching it, it was the opossum. It was curled up on its side, eye closed, not moving, but there was no visible damage. Opossums often played dead, so she had heard. Damn animal. It was lying to her.
She has chosen to wear boots that day to contrast the flowing femininity of her dress. They were short, black, and sturdy. So, she lifted her heel above the animal’s stomach.
And she stomped.
She stomped over and over again, feeling the skin slide beneath her as her boot made contact with the bones. But she felt no crack. The skin did not break. By the time she stepped back, panting, and shined her flashlight over the animal, it was like she hadn’t done anything at all.
Useless. She had accomplished nothing. Her flesh was too weak, fragile arms, fragile legs, fragile heart.
Its mouth was open, tail uncurling. The flaps of its cheek moved ever so slightly. Breath. It was still alive.
She changed her aim to its head. Then, she stomped again. And again and again and again. But it wasn’t enough. Her foot wasn’t heavy enough, legs not fast enough.
“Stupid goddamn animal,” she hissed through clenched teeth. Her anger burned in her ears. “Stupid fucking Mom. Stupid fucking Forty. Stupid fucking Dad. Stupid fucking Anavrin.”
She wasn’t sure what she was saying. Just scream whispering to herself on an empty road as she bashed the animal’s head in.
When she finally stopped and shined her light back on the opossum, there was a dark circle under its head. Its eye was black and dripping, red tinting its fur. But the flaps of its mouth still wavered as it breathed in and out. The damn animal was still fucking alive.
Her shoulders shuddered as she breathed in and out in short puffs. The fury she had felt was shifting to annoyance at her inability to kill this thing. But it was late. She could stomp as hard as she could all night, but she would only be prolonging its suffering.
The bridge. There was probably a creek around here. She may have not done enough damage to kill it, but she doubted it could swim in this state.
She picked it up by the tail, half expecting it to start squirming and try to scratch her. But instead, it hung limp. Either it was really committed to playing dead or not far from no longer pretending.
The tail was cold and gross in her hand. She held it as far away from her as possible as she walked to the bridge. It was too dark to see over the edge. She hoped the water level was high enough.
She reached the middle and figured that would be a good enough spot to drop it. It didn’t take much effort to throw it over the short railing. A second later, there was a loud plop. That sounded like enough water.
Her hand felt disgusting. She shook off the dirt that had transferred from the tail to her fingers, but some of the mud was stuck under her nails. She had hand sanitizer in the car. That would have to do.
She didn’t find anything to eat that night. She just drove home and took a long shower.
It wasn’t until the next week when she was gathering her dirty clothes that she noticed the spots of blood at the bottom of her dress.