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Pins and Needles

I’m an international, multiple award-winning author with a passion for the voices in my head. As a singer, songwriter, independent filmmaker and improv teacher and performer, my life has always been about creating and sharing what I create with others. Now that my dream to write for a living is a reality, with over a hundred titles in happy publication and no end in sight, I live in beautiful Prince Edward Island, Canada, with my giant cats, pug overlord and overlady and my Gypsy Vanner gelding, Fynn. Début The world struggles around It, a back and forth seesaw of demand and denial. It flops inside its box as the world spins, turned upside down. One of the shining, pearl-topped pins jabs Its leg. The pain is a shock. But It is unable to do anything about the agony. Gravity lets go and It floats for what seems an eternity before crashing into something hard. The box remains intact, at least. Its home, Its safe haven. Still, It has no fear, only confusion and need. Where is the girl in whose image It was created? Silence. Darkness. Waiting. All the while, the pin. And the pain. On and on forever. Alice isn't popular. Alice isn't pretty. Alice isn't likable--at least, that's what she's been told most of her life. Moving to a new town hasn't helped any, not with her nasty brother torturing her almost daily and her too-cool, uber-popular cousin making her life miserable. When Alice finds an old doll in her grandmother's attic, she feels an unusual connection to it. She just can't bring herself to feel bad when horrible things start happening to the people who are cruel to her...

Patti Larsen · Horror
Not enough ratings
41 Chs

Chapter 15: Disgrace

Alice joined Betty for a quick meal later that evening after spending a frustrating several hours pacing in her room, going from a new book to her computer to her homework in an effort to distract her from her rising anger at Rose's lack of cooperation. She only came down when her mother called for her, the echo of the front door slamming preceding Betty's voice. Alice crept down the stairs, keeping her head low, eyes on her feet and sat in silence as Rose handed her a plate filled with pizza, the woman tsking softly under her breath. She left a few moments later after a short, quiet conversation with Betty. Alice poked at the cupped round of pepperoni clinging to the side of her slice, hating she was hungry again when she wished she wasn't even as Betty hustled into the kitchen and sat with a happy sigh, the front door closing for the second time.

"It's a good thing your grandmother set aside a little money to take care of the house," Betty said as she helped herself to a piece of pizza. "And Rose seems wonderful. Don't you think?" Alice knew Betty didn't really want an answer. "It'll be so nice to have someone around to take care of the cleaning now so I can focus on work."

Alice bobbed a nod, familiar enough with her mother's chatter as long as she responded in some way Betty wouldn't prod her to talk or ask questions. Just how Alice liked it.

True to form, Betty scooped two more slices onto her plate and grabbed her glass. "I'm putting in some overtime tonight," she said on the way out. "Save some pizza for Evan."

Alice, alone, devoured her piece, a second, a third. Stared at the three pieces remaining. And though she felt full, bitterness drove her to eat another, just to spite her brother.

Alice retreated to her room after tossing the box into the fridge. She was finally able to settle into a new book, her nap making it impossible to fall asleep, even when, hours later, she looked up to see the clock read 1:00AM.

A trip to the bathroom woke her further. Alice brushed her teeth anyway in anticipation of finally going to sleep and was just turning the knob on the door when she heard footsteps. A quick peek out into the hall showed her a large shadow staggering up the last stair, stumble, curse in a loud whisper.

Alice whispered back. "Evan?" He froze before shushing her, swaying where he stood. "Go back to bed, Lice," he hissed, one hand sliding down the post at the top of the bannister, the support he'd taken from it vanishing, sending him forward, almost falling.

Alice stepped out into the hall. She might have hated her brother, but he didn't look well. "Are you okay?"

"I said go back to bed!" Louder this time. Loud enough Betty's door opened, light flashing from her room over Evan's angry red face.

"Evan?" Betty emerged, her dressing gown wrapped around her as she blinked into the dark. "Are you just coming home now?"

Alice stopped moving, the scent of weed finally reaching her, cut with the stench of beer. Not ill, or hurt. Just stoned and drunk. On a Sunday night. Classic Evan.

Betty seemed to catch on right when Alice did. She stepped out into the hall and gripped Evan's face in her hands. He tried to pull away, but ended up falling against the bannister post, cursing.

"You're a disgrace." Betty's voice ached with contempt.

Evan opened his mouth to speak, but Betty didn't give him time.

"What is wrong with you?" Betty's voice rose in volume, slicing through the air like knives, hurting Alice though she doubted Evan felt the sting in his condition. "Are you trying to be like him, is that it?" She shook, rising on her bare toes as her body clenched. "What were you thinking?"

Evan's face flashed with anger while Alice flinched from the reference. Alice's only memories of her father were tainted with her dad's addictions.

Despite his anger, when Evan answered, his tone was level. "It's fine, Mom," he said. "I was just out with the guys."

Betty's face went cold, jaw clamped tight. "For the last time," she snarled. "You're grounded for the rest of your life."

He grunted, grinned, a smirk that faded as she glared at him. "No way."

"Go to your room," she said. "Right now. We'll talk about this further tomorrow. But don't expect to play football this year. You're done." Alice gasped, drawing her brother's attention. His eyes met hers down the dark hall, his face turning ugly, dark and cruel as he shifted his focus to her. "This is your fault," he snarled. "You'll pay, Lice."

Betty stomped her foot. "Evan." She grabbed his arm and turned him toward her. "This has nothing to do with Alice. I said, go to your room. And I meant it."

Evan wavered there, staring down at their mother, rebellion in the line of his jaw, the scowl between his brows, the clenched fist at his side. Alice's soul withered, dread forming a ball of black in her gut as she waited for her brother to do the unthinkable.

He loomed over Mommy, fist raised, shouting making Alice cry

Betty backed off a half step, one hand going to her throat, a hand that trembled. Her movement seemed to break Evan out of his rage. He grunted again, brushed past Betty, gaze flickering sideways to pin Alice with a deathly stare before he disappeared around the corner.

The sound of his door slamming made Alice jump.

Betty didn't say anything, just went into her own room and closed the door.

Alice retreated to hers, leaning against her door, standing there in terror for a long time even with the key turned in the lock to keep Evan out, waiting for him to come and get her. Or was it her brother she was really afraid of?

The sound of his hand hitting Mommy's face, his fury turning on Alice.

No. Alice shook herself, stepping away from the door. She wasn't going back to that memory ever again. This was about Evan. It was. And it would be like him to break into her room and terrorize her. Even though it wasn't her fault, it wasn't.

Not that he cared. He'd make her suffer anyway.

Dying inside, too afraid to sleep, Alice stood with her back to her door for a long time.

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