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Dinner
June 11th, 2007

(( Sorry if there are any errors. Please point them out to me))

I lived in a chaotic house, a foster home. I’d been there for five years nearly, so it felt more like home than home did. I was close with my foster mother, Agnes, who no matter how she aged, seemed to grow younger. She had blonde hair, and with her youthfulness, and my refusal to act seventeen, we seemed to meet at the same intellectual age. We always sat at the table, squinting our eyes from the afternoon sun or wallowing with the rain, and scowling at the little ones while their noise made it hard to maintain conversation.

Agnes had two children of her own, both from different dads and worlds apart. Vicky was twelve, and a full-fledged preteen devil. She had a pretty face and a tendency to get her way. David was six, looked like an angel, and fought with the wrath of hell. He was incredibly stubborn, with black and white, wayward morals. He picked sides very firmly, and once he made a decision, it was nearly impossible to undo it. Lastly, we had a new one, a second foster child named Lily, she was scrawny and tall. She was also a preteen, and this caused a great tension in the house between her and Vicky. No matter what we did, we could not stop the two from fighting. They screamed that they hated each other until eleven at night, both Agnes and I were going insane. We could only roll our eyes and dish out punishment so much, and the girls, with David in the middle, acted as if they had nothing to lose.

It was a spring afternoon, everyone was home from school and I was grinding my teeth at the table. The kids were fighting, again, over god knows what but something stupid. Agnes was clinking her nails off her mug. “I want hamburgers tonight.” I told her without much thought behind my voice. The high-pitched screams were distracting. Agnes ran her hand back through her hair, taking three strands out.
“Look,” She said with horror. “I’m shedding! I’m actually shedding! I am so stressed that my hair is falling out!” Her head hit the table and I laughed. “I need to get out of here.” She groaned to herself.
“Hamburgers?” I tried again.

Agnes was going mad from the monsters, worse than I. She had to deal with it more. I could always hide in my room and turn on some Classical violin. I could cope. She couldn’t, as she was constantly exposed to their bickering. “Fine.” She said. “We’ll go to Food Basics. Pick up some burgers.” She grinned. “We’ll take our time, eh?” I licked my lips.
“How long? I want to be gone from here too, but Aggy, I’m starved.” We were on first name basis, or at least I was.

Agnes stood up and hobbled to the stove. I knew she wasn’t injured, but it was almost as if the war in the house took a physical toll on her. Again, I found myself laughing at her. She switched on the oven with her eyes closed. “Oven preheated, kid.” She said to me. “When we get back we can throw the burgers in, and we can take our time at the store.”
“Guess so.” I replied, standing up with a hand on my chair. My little dog looked up at me and tilted his head. He had this look on his furry face like he understood, but I knew he didn’t. “What about the brats? We’re going to just leave them?”
“They’ll be fine. I mean, not fine, but it’s not like they’ll kill each other.” I shrugged and we walked together toward the car. I glimpsed at the oven, the heat making its way up to four-twenty. I placed my hand on my stomach and slipped on my sandals. I’d forgotten to eat lunch.

Agnes locked the door behind us, and I heard a scream from David inside. The little ones always exaggerated everything, they could turn a teddy-bear into a life or death hostage rescue when someone wouldn’t share. Agnes was already in the driver’s seat, revving the engine with a devious grin. I got in and slammed the door. “Hit the road Jack.” I said with a laugh.
“You got it.” She smiled back at me. She looked healthier in transition from the house to car. I knew it couldn’t be as bad as she made it out to be. Nasty kids weren’t a health hazard, life just didn’t work that way.

Vicky was on the couch, grinning a grin she didn’t mean. The girl was a manipulator, learned it best from the bullies who had once bullied her. She passed the tradition down to Lily. The fighting had stopped only for a minute. David had been distracted by the little dog, and Lily was playing the video game she got for her birthday. “You’re doing it wrong!” Vicky snapped. Lily looked back with a scowl on her thin lips. “You can’t go there, you haven’t even finished the last task.” Vicky stood up. “Here, give me the controller.” Vicky tried to wrench it free from Lily’s hands, who retaliated with a slap.
“No, Victoria! I’m playing now!”
“Yeah.” David said peering into the room with his soft brown eyes. “It’s Lily’s turn.”

Vicky stood up with her hand on her cheek, she didn’t feel anything other than anger. She had felt a steady resentment from the moment Lily moved in, it was like the new kid was trying to take her place. It didn’t sit well, especially when he own brother turned on her. “I hate you!” She shrieked. “This isn’t even your house but you walk around like you own it. If you don’t give me the controller… I’ll make CAS take you back.” Lily gasped.
“You can’t do that!” She stood up and kicked the controller to the side. She had three inches on Vicky, at least.
“Yeah Vicky, your not the boss!” David added. “Mom is.”

Vicky puffed herself up, neck tilted up, chest pushed out. Lily dipped her head down a little so they were meeting eye to eye. It was a showdown of two vicious wills. There was nothing crueller than two preteen girls. “They like me better here anyway!” Lily said with a smirk. Vicky’s eyes started to sting, but her look of hatred strengthened.
“Well at least I have a family! Yours didn’t want you!”
“Yours doesn’t even want you now.” Lily said coldly, slowly, calculated.

“We should just put the two girls in the basement, see who comes out alive.” Agnes said turning a corner. I laughed.
“They get to fight to be the living sister?” I asked. “That’s a damn good idea.” We paused reflectively, thinking what the house would become if the girls were locked in another room.
“Quieter.” Agnes said with her eyes wide.
“But seriously, seriously.” I laughed again. “Who’d you think would win?”
“Well Lily’s a scrawny little thing. I don’t know how she’d fight with no muscle.” I considered that I shook my head.
“She’s a foster kid like me, Aggy, we’re survivors. We do whatever it takes to get out alive.”
“Yeah but Vic could probably think her way out.” I narrowed my eyes.
“Touché.” I said.

We pulled into the parking lot. Everyone was coming and going, the sky overhead spat drops of rain down. As soon as I opened the door, it started pouring. “Agnes!” I yelped. “Hurry!” I bolted toward the door, my entire body becoming almost instantaneously drenched. She bounded after me laughing, getting soaked to the same degree. She held her purse over her head, but it didn’t help. When we reached the automatic doors we were panting between our giddy snorts. She shoved me lightly, I wobbled dizzily back, pushed her to the wall. The cashiers were staring at us, we laughed harder.

We dripped our way in, girlish laughter finally dying down. The rain stopped nearly moments after, and we both joked that God hated us. “Probably due to your parenting.” I said.
“Oh come on.” She snapped playfully. “You baby-sit like you’re watching cows at a slaughter house.”
“What?” I asked making my eyes as large as they could go. “How else do people baby-sit?” I stuck my tongue out. My stomach took the opportunity to grumble as we staggered over to the carts, as if we were both inebriated.
“What you got in there, huh?” Agnes poked my belly. I grabbed it defensively.
“Electric pencil sharpener, what’s it to you?”

The girls had taken their fight to the kitchen, David watching from the entrance in awe. Lily had mostly stopped responding to the chorus of ridicule, but Vicky was relentless. Even as Lily pulled chunks out of her hair, the girl let an arsenal of insults and lies fill the room. “I hate you! You’re so dumb and you never shut up! Just shut up, Lily shut up! Mom! Mom! David go find mom!” Vicky screamed at the top of her lungs and Lily flung her down to the floor. Vicky tried to crawl away, nails on tile, but Lily kicked down with her foot. Lily laughed and let out a satisfactory grunt.
“You’re not the boss.” Was all that David said in response to his brutalized sister. He had picked sides, he was in the army of the ruthlessly violent Lily.

Lily backed up and flung the fridge door open. With betrayal burning in her chest, Vicky was up and charging at her little brother before the army noticed. She tackled David and bashed his head back off the floor, thankfully he fell back into the other room and hit carpet. From shock alone he started to cry, a feminine sound that pierced the whole house. “You’re such a baby David.” Vicky said, watching him with disdain. She gave him a swift kick to the side. His face was already soaked with tears, the button nose he had in common with his older sister, was bright red and leaking.

Before Vicky could do anymore damage, Lily was armed and ready for her next assault. “Don’t you do it.” Vicky cried with terror. Lily was holding a glass container of Spaghetti sauce. She launched it at Vicky, who let out and alarmed yelp. She missed narrowly, and it smashed explosively. It was the warning throw. Vicky ran as fast as she could, a can of frozen juice whizzing beside her. She deflected it with the basement door and jumped down. She pulled the door shut quickly behind her, as another glass something pummelled her hiding spot. She put her entire weight on holding it shut, keeping herself safe. “I’m sorry!” She yelled as a momentary measure of forfeit.

Lily stalked over, in an aggressive and adrenaline driven mode. There was only savagery in her eyes. She pulled David up quickly. He wiped his nose on his shirt and joined back to his army, wounds forgot. Lily pounded on the door. “Vicky you let me in!”
“No!” Vicky cried back, reaching her second wind. “You’re trying to kill me! You’re psycho! Wait ‘til mom and Quinn hear about this! They’ll send you back so fast!”
“Let me in.” Lily said in her most demanding, low, tone.

Still Vicky would not open the door, so Lily gripped the handle with both hands. She started pulling with all her might, and the door opened a crack. Vicky shut her eyes and let herself fall back, the only support being her hands on the door. It shut again. Lily braced herself, digging both heals into the ground. “You have to help me, David.” She wheezed. David took position behind her, and grabbed the back of her shirt. They both started yanking in unexpected jerks. The door started opening again, little by little, and soon, out of breath, Vicky was exposed.
“You’re crazy!” She spat, falling forward onto the floor.

Lily picked her jar of mustard off the floor, and grabbed Vicky by the hair with the other hand. She started dragging her towards the kitchen, even as Vicky screamed again with a new ferocity. Lily stepped on the glass by the entrance, felt it grind in on the padding of her feet, she gritted her teeth and continued. It scratched up Vicky’s back when she was heaved through the mess. David followed after with his hand in his mouth, sucking at his fingers nervously. He’d only ever seen fighting on Batman, and there had never been blood there. Vicky stared up at Lily in terror, and Lily back to her. She smashed the jar down on Vicky’s chest.

Agnes and I were both hungry, so shopping wasn’t the safest place for us to be. We put almost everything in sight in our cart, forgetting about the Hamburgers entirely. I was salivating, too hungry to even check out the male employees. We reached the canned food aisle, and I looked at the creamed corn like we were old lovers. I threw can after can into the cart. “Three?” Agnes asked with a chuckle. I licked my lips.
“Everything good comes in threes.”
“Except my kids.” She moaned.
“Uh, there’s like five of us Aggy, duh. What’s wrong with your memory? There’s Lily, David, Vicky, ahem me, and you know, the other one, the fish man we adopted from Brazil called Efrum.” She rolled her eyes.
“Oh right, Efrum, how do I always forget about Efrum?” She picked a can of peas off the wall, which then and only then seemed appetizing, and threw it into our cart. “You know, we’re so full of inside jokes that know one could even understand us.”
“Touché.” I said, continuing on.

“You know, that’s the incorrect use of that word.” Agnes touched my shoulder and tossed some Shake-And-Bake in.
“Touché.” I said again. She laughed hard and shook a fist at me. “I’m so effing hungry.” I said again, as if saying it for the millionth time would make me full. “I can’t wait for dinner. You better cook fast when we get home. Real fast.”
“Who do you think I am?” She asked.
“House wench.” I replied. “Who better cook real fast tonight, lest she wants a beating. Am I right?” I held my hand up in the air expecting a high five. She arched her brows.

“I have a short story due in like four days.” I told her, puckering my lips at the live fish as we wandered by. I looked at my fingers. “Yeah four.”
“Do you have any ideas?” She asked me casually. More items were dropped into our groaning cart. No cart should ever endure what we put ours through.
“Yeah. A lot. I have a couple horror plots, as always. I’m thinking I need a good ending. Something that will really make the reader groan, you know? Something really revolting, but almost funny in an offensive way.”
“Sounds good, kiddo.” My stomach made a sound similar to that of a bird being shot out of the sky.
“Real fast.” I warned suddenly. “You better cook real fast.”

Lily noticed the oven, she felt the heat from it. Vicky was clawing half consciously at her face but she just shook it off and kept staring at the oven. She knew it would take great manoeuvring if she wanted to pull off the grand atrocity, but looking at Vicky’s spiteful face, it all seemed worth it. She started lugging Vicky toward the oven. Vicky struggled vehemently. “David, get the…” Lily took a strained breath. “Get the oven door… please.” David nodded cheerfully, unable to process the actions, to fully understand right from wrong, and the wrong he was creating.

The oven gaped open like an exhaling mouth, blowing heat over the aggressor and the victim. Vicky started to understand what was to happen to her, and though she put more passion into her escape attempts she could not wriggle her shirt free of Lily’s grasp. Though Lily was having trouble, the mustard smeared all over Vicky made her hard to hold. In fact, Lily burned herself while trying to get her prey in. However, it was Vicky who took the blunt of the agony, as the different faces of the oven touched her skin. She was folded small and wedged in-between two scorching grills. The oven door was slammed shut. “Open it up!” Vicky pleaded ignoring the pain for an instant. As Vicky held the door close, David put his hands on his hips.
“You’re not the boss.” He said with an unmerciful glower.

The heat scorched and blistered Vicky’s skin as she pounded on the door with wild terror. Lily and David propped themselves against the door to keep her in. As Vicky screamed, her tongue started to dry up, her eyes too. She kicked feebly a few more times, the heat washing over her, slowly and agonizingly cooking her. Lily watched the blood that had smeared on the glass sizzle. Vicky watched her back for a moment with eyes that soon unfocused. She didn’t die quickly… she just stopped struggling after a while.

“I’m starved!” I yelled as soon as I got into the door. Agnes followed after me, throwing the first batch of our shopping bags on the foyer floor. I felt myself tense up as the smell of cooking filled my nostrils. “I thought you didn’t put anything in.” I whispered. My little dog was letting out a frenzied chorus of barking. I scolded him and he slunk to the kitchen whimpering.
“I didn’t.” Agnes replied. Lily and David were watching the oven, sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor. We walked over to greet them. There was a stillness to the house, one that had never been since Lily had come, since the fighting had started.

Agnes put her hand over her mouth and started screaming first. And while the terror flooded me too, I couldn’t find the wind to scream. I looked into the oven horrified, but with a sick fascination. Agnes was on her knees, calling “My baby, my baby, my baby.” over and over again, as if she didn’t understand Vicky was already dead. She was more than just hurt bad. I stood frigid, looking into that small glass window. They marinated her first. That was a whole new shock to endure, there was a faint smell of a honey mustard glaze. I took a stop back. “What have you done?” Agnes begged at the unfeeling Lily. My stomach growled again, the most inappropriate time, but that smell was intoxicating. “Lily, you killed my baby, you killed her!” I looked over at Agnes and touched her shoulder. I heard myself speaking before I registered my own words.
“At least dinner’s ready.”