A woman’s hair jolts to the side as another slap knocks her balance to the ground. Yelps and screams are bouncing from girl to girl as they frantically watch a mother taking out her rage on her daughter. The woman that was slapped blocks another slap to her face, but feels her hair stick to a clinched fist. Her neck is exposed as she reaches up to try and pry her hair free, but then she feels another slap across her face. One of the spectators of this violence yells, “Stop it!”
The mother keeps slapping her daughter as she snaps, “Can it Tiffany!”
The women tremble to a corner of the room and watch as the mother holds a cocked palm above her daughter’s face. The emerald eyes of the beaten woman remain locked in her mother’s hazel eyes without any expression on her face. Rage quivers the muscles on and around the mother’s peach skin as she anticipates what to do next. The mother drops her hand and stands up as her upper body expands and compresses to the beat of her heavy breathing. She says, “Don’t be such a bitch Abigail. Now pick yourself up and become a real woman by marrying a man that will take care of you.” She looks over to the quivering women and says, “And I want you bitches to fix her face again. Make sure the make up covers her redness and that her hair is fixed properly. Understood?” The women remain trembling with silence, so the mother snaps, “Understood!”
The women reply, “Yes ma’am” as they rush over to Abigail to clean her up.
Abigail throws out her arms to stop the women from touching her. She looks at her mother that’s exiting the room and says, “Love you too… Delores.”
Delores’ head inches around her right shoulder until she locks fire into Abigail’s eyes. She says, “You will only refer to me as mother.” Silence infuriates the air until Delores goes back out to the wedding ceremony.
Abigail mutters, “bitch” as she picks herself up and goes over to the golden oval mirror in the white empty room with gold accents to see what she looks like. Her left cheek has already started to flare with rosy pain as she sees a trickle of blood resting on her bottom lip. She guides her left thumb across her lip and then rubs her pointer finger on her thumb to feel the texture of her pain. Her once fluffed up brown locks with the subtle streaks of sandy blonde highlights are now all over her head and neck without any sign of obedience. She looks at her dress that was kept completely in tact from the beating before she turns to Tiffany and says, “Unzip me.”
Delores sits in her designated seat in the closest folding chair on the right side of the alter. She smiles and nods her head at the groom and puts on her sunglasses to keep the sun from covering her eyes. The rest of the witnesses stare into the ocean and the greenery around as the trees dance to subtle sway of the breeze. The pastor and the groom unknowingly have the same open mouth with their eyebrows touching down to their nose. The groom asks, “Abigail?” as he watches her strut down the aisle with a lit cigarette in her mouth. Everyone but her mother turns to look at her leather outfit shine with the streaks of the sun as she holds a motorcycle helmet in her left hand. The groom continues with, “I didn’t know that you smoked?”
Abigail makes her way to Delores as she’s turning to see what the groom was talking about. Before she can fully face her daughter, Abigail says, “I don’t” as she let’s Delores feel the cigarette being extinguished on the top of her head. She yelps as she pats rapidly on her head to put out the potential fire in her hair. After she’s done patting her head, she feels her teeth crack together from the force of Abigail’s helmet. As the spectators jump in shock, Abigail swings the helmet again at her mother on the ground. Pleasure warms Abigail’s face as she hears the hollow clank of the helmet colliding with her cheek. Abigail spits on her before she says, “Just a little girl huh?”
She walks past the groom without looking at him, so he asks, “What the hell’s going on?” She doesn’t acknowledge him, so he asks, “And what about our wedding?”
Abigail keeps walking as she says, “I only want to marry someone I fall in love with.”
“But I thought we were in love.”
She stops and drops her head before she turns to face him. She stares into his brown eyes and says, “You can’t buy my love Todd. But at least now you know why I asked you to bring my motorcycle here.” She takes a deep breath as she stares into his hurt eyes to say, “And don’t get me wrong, you are a great guy… I’m just not the right person for you.” She turns back around as he remains frozen on this sunny day.
After she makes it to her bike in the parking lot, she puts on her helmet and hits the button on the left side of it so that instead of being the black image that hides everything, a view of everything around is illuminated within the helmet. She says, “Music” so the music in the helmet begins to play her internet radio stations. The motorcycle is brought to life as she revs it over the sound of her mother screaming on the ground. She takes off onto the bridge and rides her way towards the city.
The sun’s rays lick on the banister to her right as the ripples on the ocean dance with the flickers of light. The image of an incoming call illuminates in her helmet and with the words ‘mother calling’ blinking in red little letters. She says, “Ignore” so the blinking goes away. Shortly after her command, another call from her mother blinks at her face. She says, “Ignore” again and focuses on the gray road that’s stretching into the distant city. The helmet blinks her mother calling again, so she says, “Block caller” as she speeds up. The helmet blinks with another call from Todd’s phone, so she says, “No more phone calls for the next three days.” She looks to the gray skyscrapers bunched together on the island ahead with a smirk accepting her freedom.
When her ride across the bridge comes to an end, she lets the city swallow her into its clutches. She examines the homeless people in abundant supply sleeping on the corners as the civilians continue to chat and walk over them like they’re inanimate objects. She turns into an alley and splashes in the puddles of unknown liquid until she sees a hidden black door with a subtle black light illuminated on a thin strip above it. She props up her bike with the kickstand and puts her helmet on the back seat. As she’s walking up to the door, she feels a man grab her hair and pull her deeper into the alley.
He slams her back against the wall and licks on her neck with his nostrils exhaling his desirous lust for her. She chuckles as he’s licking her, so he stops and asks her, “What’s so funny?”
She looks at his porkly nose accompanied by his fat cheeks and says, “If you really wanted to have sex this bad, then why didn’t you just ask me?”
He straightens himself up and says, “I don’t trust you sweet cheeks, now shut the fuck up so I can concentrate.” His stubby fingers grab onto her neck as he feels her chest with his free hand.
She says, “I’m serious. I’m looking for a good time and it looks like it already found me.”
He stops again and examines her smile. She examines his face and neck and sees that there are no alarming lumps anywhere. He asks, “Are you serious?” So she shines her teeth and strokes her nose across his neck until she strums it softly across his lips and his chin.
Abigail says, “Why don’t you put your back on the wall so I can get you started by sucking your dick?”
He chuckles as he switches places with her and unbuckles his pants. He says, “I guess this is my lucky day.”
She slides her face down to his exposed shortcoming as a man while saying, “You got that right.”
His head tilts up with his mouth open in anticipation for the texture of her warm tongue on his puttering member. Abigail looks back up at him to see that his eyes are no longer on her, so she reaches into her boot and jams her knife into his manhood and then forces the blade to pin it to his stomach. As he’s about to scream, she stands up to covers his mouth and stares him in the eyes. She asks, “What’s wrong? I thought you wanted to have a good time” before she knees the butt of her knife deeper into his stomach.
The rapist slides down the wall with his severed guilt stuck to himself. She places her boot on him and takes her knife out and wipes all of his remains on his shirt before she puts it back into her boot. After she stands up and swipes her palms together a couple times, she sees a man with skin of bronze and hair like sheep’s wool staring at her with a grin on his face. His golden brown eyes flicker as he says, “I guess you handled yourself before I had to do anything.”
She replies, “Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I’m defenseless.”
“I see that.” He looks her up and down before he asks, “What’s your name?”
“You can call me Serena.”
“Serena huh?” They remain still until he opens the door she was examining before. He says as he’s walking inside, “Are you coming or not?”
She looks at the former rapist one last time before she walks into the black hallway and shuts the door behind them.