Hillary_Flesh and Blood (4 page)

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Authors: Angel Gelique

BOOK: Hillary_Flesh and Blood
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Nothing,
” Hillary snapped,
a sharp edge
replacing
her usually soft, sweet voice. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and gazed across her room, stone-faced.

Mrs. Greyson could barely stand the transformation. She had heard horrific stories of mean, angry, depressed teen-aged girls, but she would never have beli
eved that Hillary
could become one of them. She wanted to believe that her daughter was just going through a normal, preferably short-lived phase, but her gut instinct told her that Hillary

s sudden personality change was neither normal nor temporary. She had a dreadful feeling that her daughter was forever changed by whatever she was going through.
She had a di
sturbingly somber feeling that the Hillary she once knew and loved was gone for good.

She was right. As the
month
s continued to fly by, Hillary withdrew even further.
During the summer months when school was no longer in session, s
he rarely left her room other than to get something to eat and to use the bathroom. She neglected her personal hygiene, showering less and less often. Her hair was often un
-
brushed and tangled. She refused to answer phone calls or see friends who worriedly came to visit her. She had even stopped speaking with her family members, dismissing them with little more than grunts and shrieks of anger. Except her father, the one person she could not refuse.

Mr. Greyson took full advantage of the fact that he had Hillary under his complete control. While Mrs. Greyson worried herself sick, he took pleasure knowing that Hillary h
ad just given up, and in doing s
o, had given herself entirely to him, just as he wanted. She wouldn

t question him or resist or seek help from her mother or a school counselor.

Michael Greyson felt no guilt about destroying his daughter

s life. On the contrary, his sense of entitlement grew. Why shouldn

t he have his cake and eat it too? All his life he had had one tough break after the other. He grew up without a father in
a
small, dirty apartment. His mother had made no attempt to conceal her disappointment in him. She made it quite clear to him when he was very young that he was just a burden, someone she had to feed and clothe and provide shelter for, and that
was
as little as she did for him. She worked sporadic hours
,
waitressing at a greasy diner. It wasn

t until Michael was thirteen that he realized his mother had earned money in other ways as well.

Michael had accidentally overseen her paying rent to the landlord. It was late one night when he was supposed to be sleeping. He had quietly slipped out of bed to get a drink of water to soothe his sore throat. He paused at the doorway when he
heard a grunting sound, a low
baritone series of moans. He peeked over and saw the landlord, Mr. Oteri, standing in front of the refrigerator with his pants down to his ankles. His mother was on her knees before him, her head bobbing within his hairy crotch, lost below his enormous belly. Michael

s eyes widened. He
knew he should
turn away and run to his room, but he watched until Mr. Oteri grabbed a hold of his mother

s dark hair and thrust himself deeper into her as he cried out in climactic release. Michael could see his fluids dripping down the side of his mother

s mouth. Michael should have been disgusted. Yet, he found himself oddly aroused. After he crept back to his room, he had his own climactic release.

Things quickly went downhill from there. His mother, who often brought home various boyfriends and

good friends,

met one particular lowlife, Eddie, who introduced her to the destructive life of heroin addiction. His mother stopped working

at least at the diner

and found more and more creative ways to support her drug habit.

One night, when Michael was barely fourteen years old, his mother entered his bedroom with a short, stocky Hispanic man. She was clearly high on drugs. Usually she kept to herself and allowed him to fend for himself, which he preferred.


What is it, Mom, I

ve got homework to do,

he said, annoyed by the intrusion.


Hey Champ,

the curly-haired man said playfully.

Who the hell is this guy and why is he in my room?

Michael eyed him suspiciously, believing him to be a fellow junkie, probably scoping out his room for something to steal.


Mikey, this is Carlo, he wanted to meet you,

his mother said flatly.


Me? Why?


He likes boys,

she replied with a disinterested shrug.


I don

t under
—”


He wants you to suck his
—”


What?! No! Get out of here,
get out my room!

His adolescent voice cracked.

Michael rose from his bed to shove them out of his room. His mother put up her hands, gesturing for him to relax and listen to what she had to say. Michael was outraged. How could his mother bring some guy

this creep

into his room and offer her son to him?


Give us a second, Carlo,

Michael

s mother said to the grinning man. He stepped out of the room and waited outside the door. He could hear their conversation.


Mikey, I
—”


You need to leave, Ma, I

m not doing it, you can

t make me, you can

t


Michael was rapidly growing hysterical.


I

m
sick
, I need my stuff, Mikey, I need it. He doesn

t want me, he wants
you.

Michael was overcome with waves of nausea. He felt sick to his stomach. He couldn

t believe this was happening. He shook his head adamantly.


Please, please, Mikey, j
ust this one time, it

s not that bad....


No, no, I can

t, I won

t,

he protested.


Quit being such a princess,

his mother shouted. She was angry now. How dare her son defy her? She never asked anything of him. The one time she needed him, he was trying to turn his back on her.


I

m not asking you to do it, I

m telling you. You think this room is free? You think the food is free? If you don

t do it, get your crap together and get the hell out!

Michael was on the verge of tears. He knew his mother was not rational. He would not be able to reason with her, to beg her to reconsider her incredibly disturbing demands. She was a drug addict and he was just another thing to sell for her hit. He barely had any feelings for her before. Now he downright despised her.


You

ll do it, Michael,

his mother insisted,

you have no choice...I own you.

If only Michael had a place to go, a friend

s house, a relative

s home, he would never have done what he did a few minutes later when his mother invited Carlo back into his room.

With a big, creepy grin on his face, Carlo lowered his pants and waited for the weeping, repulsed teen-aged boy to comply.

The longest
minute
s of Michael

s life passed as he was forced to do the unspeakable act as his mother stood beside him and watched. When he was done, he ran to the bathroom to throw up and brushed his teeth for nearly an hour, drinking half a bottle of mouthwash afterward.

Carlo found the encounter greatly amusing.


He

ll get used to it,

Michael heard him tell his mother. Michael was certain he wouldn
’t. His mind was made up…h
e would never let anyone make him feel so powerless, so violated. The innocent, quiet, easy-going Michael Greyson died that night.

Apparently, Carlo was pleased with him. He returned a few nights later. Without knocking, his mother entered his room, Carlo following behind her with that same creepy grin on his face.


Look who

s back,

she said
in a sing-song voice
, as though she were presenting him with a treat.

Michael stood up swiftly, his face turning beet red as he fumed with rage.


GET OUT OF MY ROOM!

he shouted at the top of his lungs, causing his mother to jump back.

Carlo continued to grin, amused by the drama unfolding before him.


What?

she screamed in reply.

Don

t you ever
—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Michael shoved her so violently into Carlo that the stocky man slammed into the door jamb. His mother, weighing little more than a hundred pounds, lost her balance and fell to the floor.


BOTH OF YOU GET OUT OF MY ROOM OR I

LL CALL THE COPS,

he threatened.

Carlo

s grin faded.


What the hell,

he said to Michael

s mother, angrily,

I

m not going back to prison.

Carlo turned and left the room. Michael could hear his
heavy
footsteps descending the stairs followed by the front door slamming moments later. He looked at his mother, motionless on the floor. He didn
’t intend to hurt her
he just wanted her out of his room.

He walked over and held his hand out to her, offering his assistance. With unexpected speed and strength, she sat up and began hitting and punching him. He stepped back to avoid her blows.


You good for nothing piece of shit, you cost me fifty dollars,

she sobbed.

Michael kept his distance and eventually his mother

s violent fit ceased as she whimpered on the floor of his room.

Without saying another word, she stood and left the room. It was the last time she involved Michael in her money-making trysts. From that day on, she became even more distant to
ward
Michael. He was left to fend for himself completely. He found an off-the-books job at a local deli and bought meals with the meager wages he earned. He continued to attend school until he was sixteen. By then he had met Kathy Nicholls, a co-worker who was nearly three years older. She was a first-year college student who worked part-time at the deli. Michael became infatuated by her the first moment he saw her. She had wavy blonde hair, hazel eyes, full red lips and an
amazing
hourglass figure. At five feet, eight inches tall, she could have easily been a model if she so desired.

Perhaps it was because Michael looked older than he was, perhaps because he seemed dark and disturbed, or perhaps just because he was incredibly good-looking, Kathy was likewise immediately attracted to him. It wasn

t long before they began hanging out whenever their schedules allowed.

Kathy shared a small apartment with another female student. Within months of their meeting, Michael had unofficially moved in and the roommate had moved out.
Not long thereafter
, Kathy discovered
that
she was pregnant. She fully intended to terminate the pregnancy.


What?

Michael exclaimed when she informed him about her decision,

how can you even think of doing such a thing?

He was outraged by her nonchalance and determination to murder their unborn baby.

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