you know everything. Wel I’l tel you, little Miss Know-It-Al, you haven’t got a clue about life.” Libby barely listened as her angry aunt ranted. Her words meant nothing. Without Peter her world was empty. Tears overflowed anew.
“Now move your lazy ass up off the ground and get to school. I have work to do and you’re interfering.” She waved the gun in the direction of the road.
Libby fumbled with her book bag and rose, her body trembling with emotion. “I missed the bus.”
Aunt Marge looked her up and down. “That was stupid.
Looks like you’l have a long walk to think about how to avoid that mistake again.”
Libby’s eyes widened. “It’s four miles.”
“Then you better get started.” Aunt Marge stood steadfast like the vacant farm buildings, ugly after years of neglect. Would Libby turn out the same way?
This confrontation was more than she could handle. Libby gulped. No option but to go. Resigned, she walked around the dilapidated barn; the wide door hung open on rusted hinges. She automaticaly glanced inside.
She shouldn’t have been surprised at what she saw.
Now she couldn’t turn away from dozens of smal plastic bags that sat in tidy rows. She stepped into the barn. Piles of dried plants and weight scales filed a table. Grow lights shined over large green plants that Libby knew to be marijuana.
She turned to face her aunt and laughed at the irony. The woman who restricted Libby’s every move in the guise of good behavior was growing pot.
Rage etched the haggard woman’s face. “You think you’re so smart. Wel, you’re an ignorant self-absorbed child.” Aunt Marge stalked closer. “How long ago did your weak spineless father dump you here? A year? More? And you finaly get curious? You’re as brainless as your idiot mother.”
“Don’t talk about my mother like that! She was amazing!” Anger replaced her sorrow.
“Your mother was a fool. She never accomplished a damned thing in her life. She spent years raising you and your bratty sister and for what? To get splattered on the highway like bug? Not much of a life.”
The cruel words horrified Libby. “How dare you. You bitch!”
“Watch your mouth little girl. I’m al you’ve got left in this world and you’d be il-advised to screw this up too.” Libby bit back her words. Things were happening too fast.
She needed to tread carefuly and sort things out. She stepped back, away from her aunt, away from the pot, and away from the site of her break down. Without another word, she turned towards the road.
“That’s more like it. Get yourself to school and if you know what’s good for you, you’l keep your mouth shut.” Libby started her long trek down the country road, glad to escape her aunt’s insanity. The pea gravel crunched under each step like the touch of sandpaper rubbing her raw nerves. After a while the sound became a soothing anthem, luling her distraught mind into a murky haze, where she could rehash the happenings of this morning in a distant detached way.
Mile after mile she walked, oblivious to the occasional car speeding by. When Mom and Sarah died, she’d been in shock.
This was different. Their deaths were tragic, horrible accidents.
Today, the people ripping her life apart knew what they were doing.
It emotionaly exhausted her. She was tired of being nice, tired of doing what people told her, tired of being let down. Aunt Marge’s words stung. There was no one left for Libby, and she refused to think of her aunt as a guardian. The woman was a monster. How could her dad leave her with this lunatic?
A car passed her, slowed, then puled over and stopped.
Libby plodded forward, eventualy reaching it.
“Libby, is that you?” Miss Orman leaned across the front seat and peeked out the open passenger window.
Libby stopped next to the window.
“Why are you walking? Get in.” Miss Orman reached across to open the door.
“It’s been a bad morning.” Libby climbed into the car and set her pack on the floor. Her left hand stil gripped her phone.
# # #
Julie took in Libby’s disheveled appearance. Her face, blotchy and pale with streaks from falen tears. Her coat and threadbare pants bore dirt stains. Worst of al was the desolate look in Libby’s red eyes.
“Are you okay?”
Libby nodded, but her blank expression remained.
“Do you want to tel me what happened?”
Libby shook her head and stared straight ahead seeming fragile as a porcelain dish. Julie checked for traffic and puled back onto the road.
After a minute Libby spoke. “My