the maw

episode one - part one august 19th, 2007 glassell park, los angeles 9:30am i open my eyes to the door trembling in the corner of my room, almost collapsing under the weight of whoever's pounding on it. before i can even think about speaking, i just want them to stop, so i hop out of bed and crack the door open. a face presses itself up against the slim gap, breathing like a beaten pig. a dark, shaded eye rolls around, looking for me, even though i'm in plain sight. "leah? leah! open the damn door!" she lands another fist on the door, and it thuds against my arm. "i know you're awake!" "what! jesus, stephanie, leave me alone!" i back my face away from the door, just in case she decides to slam it open. "don't you dare tell me what to do!" a fleck of spit makes its way through the gap. lovely. "f**k off!" i shut the door, and it seems like i've won. then, she throws her whole weight into it, knocking me backwards and giving her full access to my room. "you speak to me like that again, leah, i'll throw you out of this house!" she grabs the empty mason jar on my desk, and hurls it straight at me. i fling myself on to my side, to try and dodge it, but the shards that shoot out when it hits the ground cut into my back almost instantly. a sharp, bitter pain bubbles along my spine, as i try to pick out the pieces without slicing my fingers open. "...go ahead." i murmur, and brush the mess of broken glass to the side. i'll sweep it up later. "you're scrubbing sofia's bathroom floor for that. clean out her drain, too." at least sofia doesn't have to do it, i guess. as stephanie leaves the room, i rise to my feet. with my back to the mirror, i pluck out the remaining shards of glass, and flick them over to the pile. they make a whiny 'clink' when they hit each other. i won't bother changing, it's a sunday. i've only got chores, yardwork and babysitting to do today, nothing special. a heavy sigh weighing down on my chest, i leave my room, feeling the dim, dusty air of the hallway on my morning skin. everyone else is awake, i can hear their chattering from up here. i'll do my usual first - vacuuming. then, i'll dust, and wash the insides of the windows, and polish all the plates and glasses. my back already aches just thinking about it. the dull whir of the vacuum cleaner fills the landing, as it sucks up all the discarded hair, flakes of skin, clothing labels and tiny bits of plastic no one could be bothered to pick up. that's the thing about living with a lot of kids - they don't give a s**t about how clean they are. there's eight of us, not including our 'mom'. you've got me, lucky penny, sofia the machine, our personal gift from god bennett, bed-wetting eddie, chloe on the spectrum, fertilizer-bomb carson and garbage animal wendy. sofia and i are the oldest. we have to take care of everyone, as stephanie sits on her ass and lets the checks roll in. all she uses the foster allowances for is booze and coke. i mean, it's not even worth it, she just gets the cheap stuff anyway. she might as well spend some of it on us. where was i? oh, yeah, i was vacuuming up the blaster gun from eddie's g-i joe action man, and listening to the dull, choking thuds of it travelling along the chute. as i shove the stupid thing through bennett's doorway, i can't help but notice that sofia's door is shut. she wakes up at six every morning, so i don't know why she's still asleep. oh, well, i'm usually up earlier than this, too. she must have overslept. the vaccum's cord snags on the radiator pole, so i sneak back and unhook it, before sucking up more dust and garbage. bennett has the second-biggest room in the house. he doesn't have to share, which is just so annoying. i have to bunk with penny and wendy, eddie has to bunk with carson, and sofia has to bunk with chloe, so why does he get a nice sleep at night? i shrug it off, to look around. maybe i'm nosy. shut up. he's still got those 'tomb raider' posters up, which is pretty typical. he just wants to bang lara croft, i don't think he's ever played any of the games. his xbox controllers are just.... on the floor, so i pick them up, and place them on his tv cabinet. also, another dispute - why the f**k does he get a tv? all he does is jerk off and play video games with his stupid, crusty friends. for the rest of the house, in the real world, we've been playing on the busted-up playstation 2 since 2003! whatever. we're not the ones with old macaroni on the floor, or rock hard socks (although eddie's getting to that age), or his stupid brand-spanking-new nokia n95. y'know, i'd understand the phone if he was getting laid all the time or something, but he's a total virgin. i mean, look at this guy's bed - crumpled up sheets that haven't been changed in weeks because he's 'too manly' to let me wash them, crumbs all over the (bare!) mattress and pillows all over the place! he has four of them! okay, i think that's enough of me complaining about our lord and savior. i'll move on to eddie and carson's room, because that'll be such a treat to clean. and then i have the rest of my chores. oh, what a beautiful morning. 12:00pm i lug the lawnmower back over to the garage, and once it's back in its designated place, i gently pull down the rusting old shutter and lock it into the ground. now that that's done, i can finally have some breakfast. i step up into the kitchen, kick off my shoes, and thank the messy gods that no one remembers how to put the bread away, because i want a sandwich. maybe i'll go for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, that sounds pretty good. as i plate my food, i walk through the living room, but out of all the squirmy little people in there, not a single one of them is sofia. i sit down in the one free space on the couch. "hey, you guys seen sof?" i shout over the pandemonium, and i actually recieve a response. that's a one in a million opportunity right there. "no! she locked me out this morning, she's being weird!" chloe calls back to me, hunched over a bag of chips, trying to see past carson's bare ass. "oh, o- carson put your ass away!" i'm not having his butt-germs all over this clean house. i might sound like someone's mom, but i don't care. he tugs his pants up with a sour look on his face, as dora the explorer plays in the background. "he's a free man! this- this is america!" eddie cries out, like he knows what any of that really means. "america's about bravery, not pulling your pants down!" oh, penny's here. i almost didn't catch her there. "i'll show you what america's about!" carson then throws himself at penny, thrashing around like a fish out of water. she doesn't quite know how to react, so she just shoves him off, leaving him to fall back with both hands grabbing her t-shirt tight. they both topple on to the ground, so they can wrestle, even though penny's 14 already, and carson is 9. they should both really know better. i'm not going to stop them, though. i think i'll just finish my sandwich, and then go find sofia, because she's still not awake. i wonder if she's okay, i mean, she's only been late to wake up a couple times before, and then... this can't be that again. it isn't, she said she was okay, this can't happen again. i need to go. now. "hey! what the hell are you doing?" stephanie storms into the living room, and tears carson off of penny. she throws him into the couch. his back hits the seat, but he doesn't scream, he just covers his mouth. his eyes are filled with tears. he wasn't trying to hurt penny, but i don't think stephanie cares about that. "there's juice everywhere! clean it up, leah." she orders, after she turns off the tv. she won't bat an eye at carson, or my sister, she'll just take it out on me instead. "did you hear me? clean it up." "i know, i just need to-" this isn't my priority, i have to find sofia, i don't know what i'll do if i don't get to her in time. "i don't care what you 'need' to do! clean this s**t up, now!" her cheeks are pink, and i can see that vein in her forehead pulsing like a hosepipe. she doesn't understand, but she'll understand when that goddamn hospital bill comes back. "i don't have time for this." i stand up. i don't care what she's going to do to me, sofia's more important. "then you better make some fuckin' time before i make it for you!" she jolts at me, like it's supposed to make me flinch. i've outgrown the flinching. "stephanie, please." i know reasoning with her won't work, but maybe now that i'm old enough to move out she might listen to me. losing that extra couple bucks a week might make her have a little more respect for me. "don't you dare look at me like that, you little bitch." her fist meets my face, and it feels like a bitter, salty wave crashing over me, knocking me into the sand. i spread my fingers over the cold, hardwood floors. my chest heaves against it, as her muffled yells continue, stinging my ears. i'm yanked up by stephanie, her hands on my shoulders. she then grabs a fistful of my hair, lifts my head, and drags me to my feet. i don't want to fight her, i just need to get to sofia, this isn't worth it. "get started cleaning, right now." she swings me as far as she can, to get me closer to the mess. she's unbelievably strong, she must've spent the foster money on dumbells, too. i take a few quiet, heavy breaths. i don't know if i should just clean up, or if i should go find sofia. stephanie's still huffing, and puffing, like she's going to blow some poor little piggy's house down. i can't go now. she'll punish everyone if i don't clean this, and i can't let her do that. i can't let my siblings take the punishment. "i'm sorry. i'll clean it up." my voice is weak. this is the only way i can get her to leave me alone, by submitting to her. "...that's what i thought." now she has the satisfation of me looking pathetic, she can finally sit on her ass in peace, maybe have a drink or twenty. "get to it." once she leaves, i realize everyone else has scattered off, probably hiding. carson slumps out of the kitchen first, with a couple dishcloths. he looks ashamed of himself, as if any of this was his fault, as if he needs to help with any of this. he kneels next to me, and starts to scrub, with his head down. "carson, you don't need to do this." i tell him, as i take a dishcloth and join the cleaning. "it wasn't your fault." "it was. i wanted to show her america, but i made a mess." he's so upset, i can't let him help. "no, don't worry. go upstairs and play, okay?" i take the cloth from his hands, and i start soaking up the juice on my own. he smiles, but it's weak. even a 9 year old knows the difference between right and wrong, but our 'mother' doesn't seem to. "thanks." he's still a kid. he needs to play, he needs to live, he can't do the stuff i have to do. i won't let him, not yet. he runs away, back up the stairs, probably to mess up my fresh cleaning. oh well. he deserves a break. maybe they'll find sofia. i hope they don't. she's clearly not in the right state of mind to be seen by anyone under the age of 18, that's obviously why she locked herself in her room. i keep scrubbing, and the cloths absorb the juice. it's cranberry juice. it feels like i'm mopping up blood. watered-down, bitter blood. i'm almost finished with the floor, now i need to swipe away the specks littered on the front of the couch. it was mostly smeared by carson's back, so it's not too hard to clean up the rest. the house is so quiet. it's eerie, i don't think it's ever been this silent in a long time. it's not a peaceful silence. it's wrong, it's suspicious, it's everything silence shouldn't be. it's unbearable. i'm supposed to be hearing my siblings laughing, and playing, and enjoying their lives. nothing's happening - it's like the world's standing still. i've only ever heard this silence once before, but i can't remember where. i stalk into the empty kitchen, and wring out the washcloths over the sink. the room is so quiet i can feel that faint, ghostly ringing pierce through my ears again. from beside the refridgerator, i take the mop by its handle, and return to the couch. the moment the wet ropes touch the floor a terrible, earth-shattering boom sends tremors through the ground. i race over to the window, and peek under the blinds. there's smoke billowing out of a roof from just a couple blocks away. people are running away from it, in flocks, like mindless sheep scared out of their minds. the looks on their faces are like nothing i've ever seen before. anguish, desperation, terror, shock. i can't imagine what they've seen. a chill seeps through my bones, so i retreat to cleaning, to try and get my mind off of the occuring tragedy. the stairs creak behind me. already shaken, i turn faster than i'd like to admit. it's sofia. her unruly, curly hair is covering her face, so i can't see her expression. she's walking strange, like her spine has gone stiff, like she's rigid with cold. "morning, sofia. you feeling okay?" i greet her, but it falls on deaf ears. when she reaches the ground, she stumbles, as if she's a baby deer, just taking its first steps. i walk over to her, but not too close. i don't want to smother her. i catch a glimpse of her eyes through her thick, brown hair. they're shrunken, almost animalistic in their very nature. her dark pupils swivel around the room, completely brushing past me. her fingers twitch at her sides. my stomach drops when i look for more than a second. her arms, her hands, her clothes are all covered in blood. drying, dark blood, mottling her pure, golden skin like a bad memory. although her chest is heaving, she doesn't seem to be breathing. her ribs cave and expand at odd intervals, as if she's about to vomit. "sofia?" i tap her on the shoulder. her head snaps towards me, in a violent, jerking motion. she takes a heavy step towards me, and then another, and then another, so i back away. "sofia, what are you doing? what's all that blood?" i take a closer look at her arm, as she reaches it up, and out. there's a deep, bone-wielding gash spanning from the middle of her forearm to the very center of her wrist. it's not bleeding. it seems to have already done enough of that. her hand closes on my hair, and tugs down on it, bringing my head to the side. "ow!" i shove her away from me, but she falls. when she hits the ground, her hair whips over her head, giving me a full view of her face. she doesn't even look alive anymore. her cheeks are concave, her teeth have rotted to the gums, and her jaw is jutting out like she's deformed. a weak growl escapes from her throat, as she struggles to get up again. there's blood smeared all over her cheeks. "finally."