UNWELCOMED GUEST

"Just how long does it take to buy common meat from the butchery that is just a stone throw away from here, you ungrateful girl?" My mother yells at me the moment I walk in through the door. As usual, she came home drunk and in company of a man again who she was kissing before I walked in just now. I am used to it, including her moans while the men screw her at night. Before, I would just walk out and seek to spend the night in my friend's house to escape the shame. But then my friend drifted away from me. She and her family got tired at helping me. She didn't say it directly, actually, she did not say anything, but as they say, actions speak louder than words. I saw it a few times how her mood changed whenever I asked for her help. I saw how she changed from being a talkative bestie to an almost mute friend. How she pretended to fall asleep immediately we got to her room, or pretended to busy with this or that, refusing my help. Sometimes she could just wake up early and leave me on her bed, and go to hang out with her other friends whose dreams were valid like hers. I read the memo and understood it perfectly. She had gotten tired of me and my endless problems. I was no longer her best friend. I was trying to force myself where I was no longer welcome. Before she could slam it to my face how much she was fend up with me, I decided to stop involving people in my problems, and stopped forcing myself to her and her family. These days, we barely even say hi to each other. She is in campus, her class is way too high to associate herself with a failure like me. I respect that though, and I am happy for her, honestly.

"The que was long mother. That is why I took a bit longer." I say softly to my mother.

"A bit? You call a whole twenty minutes just a bit?" I know where this is going, and I am so tired of it. I came home early with some veges to eat with rice, only for this demanding mother of mine to chase me out to go buy meat. It was not in my budget, as the sales have been so low today, but as usual, I had no say in it. I had to walk out at night to buy meet to satisfy her, else she would have skinned me alive, and roasted me to be her meat tonight. Now here I am, with what she requested, but even at that, she has to find a way to insult me. I think I will never understand her. What does she ever want? Because I am getting tired of all her unending dramas.

"I am sorry, mother. You might be so hungry. I will go prepare the meat for you." And there, I stumbled on a bomb.

"What did you say? I am hungry? What are you trying to insinuate, huh?"she grabs me by the hair, pulling it so hard, causing me to close my eyes to the pain. "I see you have grown horns, you little witch. Is that what you go around telling people? That you are the one who feeds me? So that is why everyone has no respect for me anymore, huh?"

Seriously now? Anymore? Since when was she ever respected? I am to be blamed for people disrespecting her? For all I know, she ruined her reputation herself. I don't have to go around saying anything to people because her actions speaks for herself. Despite all the troubles she makes me go through, I never at any point considered bad mouthing her. I was at some point advised to sue her for child negligence and abuse, but I could not bring myself to suing my own mother.

"You are hurting me, mother." I say, trying to get her hand away from my hair. What kind of mother did you give me, God?

"Baby." The wrinkled-white-haired chimpanzee she brought home speaks for the first time. "Why don't you let your little witch cook for us. We need all the energy we can get tonight, don't you think, my baby?" He leans in, kissing my mother on the neck and I close my eyes to avoid witnessing that suffocating act. Isn't this chimpanzee old enough to be her father? The wrinkles and white hair is evident enough.

"You are right, honey." My mother says. "Alright. Go cook that meat fast and it better not burn, or I will roast you alive. Remember, we are not done here. Tomorrow you will have to tell me all the nasty things you have been feeding people about me." She pushes me inside our small kitchen, and I fall on the cold floor. This is what she enjoys the most- to see me suffer. To see me hurting. Why mother? Why do you do this to me? Why do you treat me this way?

I help myself from the floor before she starts yelling at me again, and I start preparing the meat, while they continue their disgusting touchy touchy and kissing, sipping their alcohol in between. I can hear the irritating clicking sounds of their kissing from here. What kind of mother behaves like this in front of her child? I would have understood if it was my father she is doing this with, or her husband, but with random men? What kind of picture does she think she is portraying to me? What criteria does she even use to pick these men anyway? Like the one she brought in today, wasn't there a better choice? This one with the eyes like that of an awl, what did she like about him? Or could there be anything interesting about him that I am not seeing? Shit! That was a bad time to peek on them. Not that there is any better time to do so, but finding a man's hand molding your mother's breast and the other one kneading her butt, his lips on hers while his eyes are on you is the worst scene of all. I turn away from them, and check on the meat. I wonder why he is looking at me. Is that how people kiss?

I serve them food, and carry my white rice with just veges to eat in my room, and an orange. I am the one who has to struggle for everything, and I am also the one who has to suffer for everything. I bought meat, but I haven't even tasted it. My mother just took them all out of my plate, just because I bought the little quantity I could afford. I don't need the strength, it's them who need it. Just wow! Can life be any worse cruel than this? I am sure in the morning she will ask for some eggs or sausages, as if she knows how much they cost. I wouldn't mind if she makes me toil for both of us. What I hate is that she doesn't appreciate anything I do. What could be worse in this world than my life?

I finish taking my meal and get to my other problem of a bed. There is no single thing that is good in this life of mine, except virginity, that is, if other people consider it to be good. That is the only thing I have intact, the only thing I am proud of, and I defend it like the priceless thing it is. The situation with my mother has made me hate men. The only thing I see when a man shows interest in me, is a man who just want to sleep with me and that's all. There hasn't been many to bother me anyway. I was a pathetic case from childhood. Nobody would love a girl like me- the daughter of the neighborhood's whore. For the few that tried, they really heard it from me. I was and still is not ready to trade my pride and dignity for anything.

It's in the middle of the night, and I think I need to save up for another blanket because the one I am using right now is so torn. I feel like I am sleeping out in the cold. The cold is not showing any mercy. I try to cover my back which is completely exposed because my dress has ridden up. Shit! I open my eyes to make my dress, plus I know my blanket is torn, but I don't think it's to the point of exposing my legs and butt in full. I am also sure I switched off the lights before getting under the blanket, so why am I seeing orange lights? I blink a few times, but when I open my eyes again, the light is still there. Turning to the side that faces the door, what the hell! What on earth is he doing in my room, and sitting on my bed? How uncouth? I sit up straight, pulling the blanket up to cover myself.

"I want to believe I am either dreaming or you are a ghost? So which one is it?" I ask, because I honestly don't believe this ugly chimpanzee is in my room.

The ugly chimpanzee smiles, moving up closer to me. "None my dear."

"What are you doing here? And who gave you the audacity to enter my room?" I ask, anger boiling in me. He puts his hand under the blanket, trying to touch my legs, but I kick his hand away. I keep my eyes on his face, while I take the knife I was cutting the orange with under the jacket that is serving the purpose of a pillow. "I asked you a question," I hold the knife behind me with my right hand, "what are you doing in my room?"

"Relax. Don't you want to experience what I made your sweet mother feel a while ago? I'm sure you heard her moan my name."

The nerve of this jerk! What does he think I am? A whore like the women across my room? How dare he?

"Well, guess what? I hear her moans every single day, but today was kind of different. Her moans today weren't loud like other days. I'm sorry to say this but I think you were a bit lazy on her. Yeah?" I say.

"That's because she was so wasted. And she is getting old too. Her sex is becoming boring this days. She isn't the cool babe we used to fight for in clubs anymore. But you honey, I can spend the remaining hours of this night on top of you. I will make you come like ten times, baby. So what do you say?"

He is sneaking his hand under the blanket again. Someone remind me the meaning of disgusting, because I think this white haired idiot in front of me is the real meaning of it. I put one foot down on the cold floor, and kneel on bed with the other. So that is why he was looking at me like that earlier, huh? He thought he will screw the mother and the daughter tonight? Let's see if you will have the balls to return to this house.

"So, you want to have a night of your lifetime, huh? Screwing me and my mother? That will be a sweet history to remember, right?" His hand is on my knee, and before it goes beyond that, I move that leg on his lap, and the idiot start leaning back. I love the dirty mind of this fool.

"Yes. But the sweetest part will be the one with you baby. You want to ride?"

Whatever that means, I don't know and I don't care. I want to teach this jerk a lesson. "No. Something better and sweeter than that." I say, as I slowly bring down the hand with the knife.

"Oh, baby. What is that? You are as charming as your mother some years back. I am already hard for you."

"How about," I take his left arm playfully, and press it on his stomach with mine, "I chop off, "I place the knife on top of his aroused nonsense between his legs, making him squirm, "this wrinkled pen of yours together with your shrunk balls, put them all together in your mouth and use the same knife to push them down your throat? How sweet is that going to be?"

He is shaking right now. The knife landed harder on him than I had intended but I don't care. I am sure there will be a little blood on the knife when I take it from here. He should know that I am not as rotten as my mother.

"Don't! You are hurting me, you psycho! Get off me." He pushes me away, and I stand at a safer distance. I knew he will overpower me. He is a man anyways, the important thing is that I have made my point clear. I am not like my mother. He is hurt and I am satisfied. To hell with that nonsense about the apple not falling far from the tree.

"What? You don't want to have fun any more?" I challenge him.

"You are insane." He says as he stands up.

"Get out of here, you scumbag." I say behind him. That thing must be painful because he is walking with legs apart. Where is he going? Back to my mother's room? He really is an idiot! "Hey! Hey! I said you get out, not getting back in my mother's bedroom." I get the door for him, stepping outside.

He walks out in the cold shirtless and a towel wrapped around his waist. It serves him right. I throw the knife away and walk back inside, locking the door. This woman will get me into serious trouble. Let's see what she will say in the morning. I will have to play innocent, because if she finds out that I chased her man away, I will surely get it. She will not care about my reasons. She never does, never will. I'm getting tired of this life.