rissy stories

Hey guys,

I know it’s been awhile. If you’re interested in a longer read, here’s something I’ve been working on for a couple months. The rest of the parts are shorter – this is longer because it’s more of an introduction to the situation and the characters.

If you’re familiar with the show Shameless, then you’ll notice a lot of similarities. I personally love that show and I wanted to write something with a similar plot, but something that goes in a different direction than the show does. So, here it is. Enjoy!

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Ripley

Three loud pounds on the door downstairs roused Ripley from her nap on top of the homework she had at her small wooden desk. She glanced at her watch, then wiped at her tired, puffy brown eyes – it was almost midnight. She could still hear her parents fighting downstairs, but she’d gotten so used to it that she could sleep through almost anything. She inhaled and cringed at the usual household stench of nachos and farts that traveled its way up into her nose. Then she exhaled forcefully while staring down at the Little Women study guide she had made for herself and crumpled after falling sleeping on top of it. She ignored the pounds on the door that she heard earlier and flattened out the sheet as best she could with her fingers, cleared her throat, and scratched at the back of her head, right above her low, light brown, frizzy haired ponytail with her stubby fingernails.

“Meg March – the oldest sister, beautiful, smart, and perfect. The role-model for her youngest sisters and a domestic-woman wet dream for silver-spoon-fed a**holes everywhere,” she read aloud to herself as more pounds sounded from downstairs, follow by a loud, angry yell. Ripley then lifted up her head from her high school work and listened as she stared at a print-out picture of a young Rob Lowe that was taped to her wall above her desk.

“Open up! We know you’re in there, Melvin,” she heard the neighborhood cop, Zander, yell from behind the front door. Ripley’s face scrunched up in anger and she smacked her half-full plastic water bottle off of her desk, then shut off her lamp light. Her water bottle hit the hardwood floor with a pop as she bolted up from her seat and strutted out of her small, messy bedroom. Why did this s*** always have to happen the night before an exam?

“F***ing f***,” Ripley muttered as she walked out into the small, clothing-ridden hallway and quietly opened the door to another small bedroom right next door. Zander had been searching for a reason – any reason – to arrest Melvin and Babs after they showed up to his family’s annual Christmas party three weeks ago, obviously uninvited, and both vomited a solid mixture of gin, tequila, and beer all over their white carpet. Who has white carpet these days, anyway? Either way, Ripley didn’t blame him for being pissed off because she went through an angry phase with her parents on the daily.

However, it was always family first, and her parents’ arrest would get her and her four younger siblings thrown into separate foster homes so fast they wouldn’t even have time to say goodbye to one another. So, the plan was to run away from social services altogether until their parents were released from jail and could “prove” to the feds that they could take care of their own children. But this, surprise-surprise, is difficult to come by with f***-ups for parents.

Ripley’s eyes weren’t adjusting to the darkness well, and she couldn’t turn the lights on and give away the kids’ location, but she could walk to one-year-old Hadley’s crib with her eyes closed. She’d actually done that many times with her as a newborn while Babs was passed out, too drunk to hear anything. Thankfully though, Hadley took from her mother and slept like a rock, so Ripley carefully scooped her up from her crib before the pounding, yelling, and rapid footsteps downstairs could wake her up and scare her. Then Ripley leaned over to her ten-year-old sister’s bed – shaking her awake with the arm she had free.

“C’mon, get up,” Ripley said as she held a groggy Hadley on her hip. She bent back into the crib and grabbed Hadley’s blanket in the process of waking up Ellison from another anxiety-ridden nightmare. Her sister was so wound-up that simply looking at her funny would send her on a tailspin of: Why is she looking at me like that? Did I do something wrong? Is she kicking me out of the house? Oh God, this is it – I’m gonna have to live on the street and beg for money!

“What’s going on?” Ellison asked right before another pound on the front door downstairs. Her heart stopped as she froze and squinted at the dark, slim frame of her sister – she knew what the pounding meant. Meanwhile, Hadley fussily wrapped her chubby arms around Ripley’s neck, wined, and drooled on her shoulder.

“Get in Brynn’s room, go,” Ripley replied, speaking as calmly as she could so she didn’t upset Hadley. Once Ellison was out of bed and rushing to find her coat in the dark, Ripley pushed her across the hall, almost tripping over a Barbie doll, and into a lightly lit bedroom. The black t-shirt Ripley wore blended in with the darkness well while her long-sleeved white undershirt with the sleeves rolled up stuck out like a sore thumb. She had her left hip cocked, her low-ride light blue jeans showing off her expanded hips and her flat stomach. When Ellison stumbled inside, Ripley turned around and shut the door as quietly as she could with her trembling hand while lightly bouncing the baby on her hip and cooing at her softly. Then Ripley locked the door and sighed heavily, leaning her forehead against a Justin Bieber poster taped to the back of the door as she heard their father yell followed by loud thud and then a woman’s scream. The big thud was more than likely the grandfather clock her fifteen-year-old brother, Van, won in a wrestling contest out on the street. It was a weird thing to compete for, but Van was proud of it, and of course, Melvin always hated that thing.

“What’s going on?” Ellison asked again from behind Ripley, which was followed by sharp shushing. Brynn had already climbed out of her purple-sheeted bed at this point in her stretched-out maroon t-shirt and grey sweatpants. She was walking over to Ellison, who was whimpering and chewing at the dry skin around her fingernails. To avoid yelling at Ellison, Ripley pressed her lips to the crown of Hadley’s curly blonde-haired head as her eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness in Brynn’s room – the only light source coming from the moon shining through the window beside Brynn’s twin-sized bed. Ripley then turned around, kissed Hadley, and carefully passed her along to Brynn who had her arms out for her.

“Don’t start with that s*** again, El. I don’t have room for it,” Ripley said. Brynn shot her a worried look. “Now, help me move this dresser in front of the door,” she added, running to the other side of Brynn’s brown dresser sitting against the wall, a few feet from the door. She placed her hands on the side of it and started pushing, but it barely budged. Ripley groaned and then looked over at Ellison who was just standing there, staring at her. “Quit starin’ at me and get you’re a** over here,” she whispered harshly, then glanced at Brynn who pressed her face up against Hadley’s and giggled in an effort to keep her distracted from all the noise.

“Don’t start with what?” Ellison snapped defensively with her hands on her hips. Ripley cursed to herself, huffed, walked up to Ellison, and placed a hand over her mouth. Ellison gasped and jerked her head away, but Ripley tightened her grip around her sister’s jaw. Ellison gripped Ripley’s arm and dug her fingernails into them. Ripley appeared unfazed, even after Ellison furrowed her eyebrows and glared up at her seventeen-year-old sister.

“I need you to shut up and do what I tell you,” Ripley replied, a long strand of light brown hair falling out of her low ponytail and in front of her face. “And shut off your brain for a few minutes while you’re at it, alright?” she added and then removed her hand from Ellison’s mouth. Ellison looked over at Brynn with clenched fists and an “I’m-about-to-commit-murder” look that Ripley often sported – her brown eyes wide and menacing, her jaw set, and her light blonde brows furrowed. However, Ellison looked a lot less threatening with the look than Ripley did, especially with her cute freckles speckled across her Cindy-Lou-Who nose and cheeks.

Ripley then snapped her fingers and ordered Brynn to hand Hadley over to Ellison, who became numb with anger and took the baby Brynn reluctantly handed to her. Ellison sulked over to the other side of the bedroom, placed Hadley on the floor, and dropped herself onto Brynn’s bed. She pushed her straight blonde hair behind her ears, folded her thin arms over her flat chest, and crossed her legs as she watched Ripley grab Brynn’s arm and drag her a few feet away from them while Hadley looked up at Ellison with bright green eyes and began chewing on the handle of a hair brush lying on the floor.

“Please, please tell me you’ve still got our cell on you,” Ripley whispered to Brynn. She hated the fact that they all had to share a cell phone – a dead one at that. It rarely ever worked correctly, but she wanted to try calling Ms. Lowell to tell her that they would be coming over. Brynn shook her head, her wavy dark brown hair with faint blonde highlights flowing over her shoulders as she looked down at the floor and picked underneath her dirty fingernails.

“Dad made me trade it today for coke,” she responded in a deep, raspy voice. Ripley tightened her hands into fists and looked up at the ceiling, mentally cursing God for making her the offspring of such an unemployed asshole. At least Babs held down a job at the Stop N’ Shop down the street, but only because she’s having an affair with the manager, Brynn did all of her pee-tests, and she hides her drunkenness better than Melvin. Ripley took what she could get.

“What’s coke?” Ellison asked curiously.

“That’s son of a b-” Ripley started, but then glanced over at Ellison, who was still watching them like a hawk. Ripley stared at Ellison for a moment, then sighed and turned back to Brynn, who had looked up and was shaking her head at her with wide brown eyes, her head jerking over to the right, towards Ellison and Hadley – a gesture interpreted by Ripley as ‘Don’t badmouth dad in front of Ellison or she’ll go off on you.’  The corner of Ripley’s mouth curved up in gratitude and she tugged lightly at Brynn’s locks teasingly. Brynn was a thick thirteen-year-old who had the face of an angel, and she was smarter than Ripley gave her credit for. She had straight A’s every year in school, she helped Ripley pay the bills, and she had dreams of becoming a vet and getting the hell out of South Harrisburg one day. Ripley was determined to help her get there when she wasn’t preoccupied with keeping Van from becoming a drug dealer, keeping Ellison in school, and keeping Hadley fed and clean.

“When does Van get home?” Ripley asked.

“I don’t think until late, especially after you yelled at him the other night for failing a geometry test,” Brynn said and then bit her lip. Ripley sighed and ran a hand over her ponytail.

“He’ll just head over to Ms. Lowell’s once he sees the cops,” she whispered, ignoring Brynn’s comment. Brynn bit her lip and scratched her nose.

“Are they…are they taking-” she started as Ripley placed her hands on her hips and cut her off angrily.

“-No, they’re not takin’ us anywhere,” she said and headed back over to the dresser, the red stress circles around her eyes becoming more defined with each second that passed. “Now get over here and help me with this thing,” she ordered. Brynn rushed over and on the count of three, they pushed the dresser in front of the bedroom door, the faint sounds of broken glass and shouting resonating from behind the door and under the floor.

“What’s going on down there?” Ellison asked, moving towards the dresser. Ripley ignored her and glanced over at Hadley, who was still happily chewing on a hair brush. Ripley shrugged it off – these kids have had worse things in their mouths – a hair brush couldn’t hurt.

“Dad get busted again?” Brynn asked. Ripley shook her head.

“Hopefully not, as long as the coke’s nowhere in sight. Babs’s been fightin’ down there with Melvin all night, somebody musta called the cops on ‘em again,” she replied with annoyance. Their parents fought so often that everyone within the household had become immune. The kids didn’t even need earplugs to block out the noise anymore, but the trouble starts when the fight turns violent. And despite how many times the cops have been called on them in the past, Ellison’s eyes still went wide and she visibly shook in her pink pajamas.

“What’re we gonna do?!” Ellison asked worriedly as Brynn threw on a winter coat over her pajamas. She stepped into her worn-out brown, knock-off UGG boots and waltzed over to the window, which she threw open with a grunt and shiver at the wind. Ripley smiled in disbelief and exhaustion, muttered “Jesus,” and looked up at the ceiling again with her arms held out, patiently waiting for God to interfere and tell her: ‘I’m just f***ing with you – this isn’t your life. It’s all just a prank, sorry about that.’ Unfortunately, that message never came.

“Scream louder El, I don’t think the entire street heard you,” Ripley then snapped as she pushed past Ellison and walked over to Hadley who was now crawling over to them. She started wrapping Hadley as tight as possible in her blue blanket, making her into a nice, warm, burrito. Ripley hadn’t had time to grab all of Hadley’s winter clothes, so Brynn walked over to her bed and threw Ripley another pink, fuzzy blanket, which she caught with her other hand. She wrapped that blanket looser and even managed to make a hood out of it. Now all that they could see was Hadley’s bright brown eyes.

“What about mommy and daddy?” Ellison retorted as she slowly pulled on her pink winter coat. Ripley gritted her teeth, reached over, and threw Ellison’s fuzzy hood over her static-y, shoulder-length hair. Ellison had always been their favorite, she thought.

“They’re gonna have to do what they’ve always done. Grovel,” Ripley replied as Brynn walked back over to the open window and began to climb out of it, which she could barely fit through, and stepped onto the first ladder rung on the fire escape that Ripley paid to have installed years ago. It set her back about $150, but it was worth every penny. Thank God their grandmother in Seattle was the one who actually owned the house and not Melvin or Babs.

Ripley carefully handed the Hadley burrito to Brynn through the open window. Then Brynn started to slowly climb down with Hadley held close to her chest. Ripley shivered, pulled down her undershirt sleeves, and pushed Ellison in front of her to help her out the window.

“But what if-” Ellison started.

“Christ El, if you don’t calm the f*** down, I’m gonna throw you out this window!” Ripley screamed, her eyes wild and angry as they glared through Ellison. Hadley began to wine at all the yelling and Brynn rolled her eyes as she stepped on the last rung and jumped the few feet to the ground. In response, Ellison physically recoiled as though she had been slapped and then huffed, slamming her hands on the window frame and swinging a leg over while Ripley grabbed onto her small, slim hips for support. Ellison smacked at Ripley’s arms.

“I can throw myself out, thank you very much,” Ellison snapped as she swung the other leg over and stepped onto the first rung. Brynn stood close to the brick wall, looking up at them and holding Hadley tight to her body for more warmth. Ripley shut her eyes and sighed for a moment, hearing the cops break down the front door and storm into their house downstairs. Ellison must’ve heard it too because she started climbing down faster. Ripley then quickly climbed out the window once Ellison was down, and she made sure to close it behind her.

Once they all reached the snowy bottom, Ellison peered around the back of the two story building to see multiple flashing red and blue lights. They all paused as they watched and heard their father being dragged out of the house with his hands behind his back. He was wearing his famous filthy blue jeans that were ripped at the knees and a plain white t-shirt with stains all over it. Zander slammed Melvin’s old, drug-and-alcohol-ridden body up against one of the police cars as he read him his rights and handcuffed him. He had two black eyes and bruises up and down his arms – more than likely from Babs. She tended to throw things at him when she got angry. Ripley grabbed onto Ellison’s shoulders to keep her from running after him.

“You have no reason to arrest me, I’ve done nothin’ wrong! Get offa me ya f***in’ assholes! Don’t touch me with those sausage fingers,” Melvin yelled as Ellison’s hood fell. She began tearing up and sniffling while Hadley buried herself into Brynn’s shoulder, feeling too toasty in her little burrito to stay awake any longer, let alone cry. Brynn used her free hand to grip Ellison’s right shoulder affectionately, and Ripley appeared indifferent as she looked down at the top of Ellison’s head and hugged her from behind.

“Melvin, help me, wait-wait- don’t – you can’t arrest me, I need to make dinner!” Babs shouted with her smoker’s voice shortly after Melvin was thrown onto the car. Ripley insides boiled and she resisted the urge to storm over to her mother and beat her to death –Who the f*** did this batty b**** think she was kidding, she never bothered to make dinner for anyone!

Meanwhile, at the sound of his wife’s voice, Melvin’s head jerked to see her. She also had bruises all over her arms and a large lump on her forehead, not to mention the fact that she was limping and her jeans were ripped open at the knee, dried blood from a wide cut on her knee stained her shins red. Ripley’s heart dropped as she realized that Melvin must’ve really hurt her this time, which would more than likely lead to a felony charge instead of a misdemeanor on top of a coke crime. Meanwhile, Melvin struggled against his restraints.

“Let her go! What’s the matter with you monsters? Take your filthy hands off my wife,” he shrieked. Big, fat tears tumbled down Ellison’s freckled cheeks as she watched her parents scream for each other while being thrown into the back of two police cars. Ripley and Brynn tightened their grips on Ellison, Brynn staring angrily at the scene and Ripley focusing on Ellison’s heartbroken face while stroking her cold, blonde hair. This poor, stressed out kid.

“Uh-Rip, we gotta go, like now,” she suddenly heard Brynn say next to her, who was looking up at her bedroom window, seeing flashlights being shined around the room. She shielded Hadley from the wind as much as possible while Ripley and Ellison’s eyes shifted upwards. Low and behold, they spotted a flash of light across the window.

“How do they always get past the dresser?” Ripley asked right as Ellison whispered another “What’re we gonna do?”

“Run?” Brynn asked while carefully handing Hadley to Ripley. Ripley nodded and pushed her sisters to the right while whispering: “You know where to take her, I’ll be right behind ya.”

Brynn nodded back and immediately took Ellison’s hand. They ran through the snow, into their next-door neighbor’s backyard while Ripley slowly walked with Hadley behind them, finally stealing a glance at the scene in the front yard once she was in between houses. She stopped for a moment in the darkness, even though she knew that she needed to get Hadley out of the cold and keep an eye on her two other sisters. Yet, she stared wide-eyed as one of the police cars sped away and two other police officers Ripley didn’t know walked up to Babs, whose skeleton-like body was still slammed up against the other cop car.

“Where are your kids, Babette? They never seem to be home whenever we pay a visit,” one of those cops asked suspiciously. Ripley’s twisted facial expression exemplified indignation as she glared at the back of her mother who answered: “What kids?” right when Ripley heard the window to Brynn’s room open up. Ripley looked up at the window and made eye contact with the random cop leaning out the window, who just happened to spot her. She hugged her baby sister closer as she just intimidatingly glared at the sandy-haired man looking down on her, not knowing what to do. He must’ve been a newbie. She then forced herself to turn away from him and rush off into the darkness, confident that he wasn’t going to chase after her.

Her guess had been confirmed when she heard the cop mutter “No,” from out the window, guessing that someone behind him must have asked: “Do you see anything?”

She felt the snow seep into her torn-up sneakers as she treaded through the snow, the bottoms of her jeans becoming soaking wet with each step. Her arms wrapped around her burrito sister sleeping on her shoulder and she treaded on into her neighbors’ backyards, the wind burning her face and ears. She fought back tears and stumbled, almost tripping over the edge of a porch that was buried underneath the snow. She gasped, but kept her eyes ahead and didn’t fall. She continued to move through the darkness until she was about five shabby, beaten-up houses down, when she suddenly heard a voice call out her name. A male voice. She stopped and squinted ahead of her. She could spot a darker figure waving at her from the backdoor of the seventh house down. She wanted to continue walking, but suddenly lost the will to keep going. She remained where she was, which caused the figure to jump from the backdoor of the house onto the snow. Once it got closer to where Ripley was standing, she could make out her only brother who was also lacking snow gear.

“Jesus, why’re you just standing out here? Here, gimme her,” Van said, taking Hadley from Ripley’s frozen arms. Hadley fussed for a moment, obviously tired of being passed around so much, but once she realized it was Van, she fell asleep again. Meanwhile, Ripley stared at him as a cold tear slid down her cheek. His dirty blonde hair was buzz-cut and fuzzy, his shoulders lean and strong. He was wearing his high school’s wrestling t-shirt with jeans, his biceps puffed out. He was rather built and mature for a 15-year old, but then again, the majority of the Hazeldine kids were too mature for their ages.

They just looked at each other in silence for a moment before he cleared his throat, “You, uh, look like hell,” he said. Ripley laughed pathetically, and smirked at her little brother.

“Yeah,” she said with a shrug of her sulked shoulders as that smirk quickly transformed into frown. Van used his other arm to pull her in for a hug.

“Holy shit, you’re like ice,” he gasped over her shoulder as she grabbed fistfuls of the back of his shirt and cried into the shoulder that Hadley wasn’t sleeping on. “Hey, hey, easy,” he added. He was much warmer despite the lack of a coat, and his one-arm hold was comforting.

“I’m so sorry I yelled at you last night,” Ripley cried. “I’m so sorry,” she added as Van quickly shushed her and swayed with his two sisters in his arms. After a few more seconds of crying, Ripley grabbed ahold of herself and inched out of his grasp while nodding and wiping her eyes, almost as though Van had just told her that she needed to get it together. “Are Brynn and El in there?” she asked while motioning to the house he just walked out of.

“You ever think about yourself, maybe?” he asked and then looked back at her with wonder. Ripley blinked and swallowed, not expecting that question. Then she shook her head.

“Not in 15 years,” she concluded and shivered, crossing her arms over her chest. Van stared at her for a moment before nodding and back stepping towards the house.

“C’mon, your skin is turning blue as we speak,” he said. Ripley moved slowly behind him, the feeling in her legs draining with each step. It was too dark to see, but the house they were walking up to was a one story, brick-built house with a large chimney, green roof, and white window-framing. The blinds to the kitchen were down and one step led up to the backdoor that was also painted green. Brynn was looking out the door now and reaching for Hadley as Van approached. He stepped up and handed her to Brynn while waiting for Ripley who was stumbling along behind him. He pulled the pink fuzzy blanket off of Hadley as Brynn walked into the heated home with her, and he wrapped the blanket around Ripley as he helped her step up and into the house. He shut the door behind him as Ripley slowly walked through a dark hallway, her shoes tracking snow behind her. She turned right into the kitchen, where there was light, to find Brynn and Ellison sitting at the small round table by the window. Brynn was bouncing a crying Hadley in her lap and Ellison refused to look at Ripley – she was just staring at the closed blinds. Meanwhile, a 36-year-old, thin black woman with kind brown eyes and an understanding smile was making coffee over by the counter on the opposite end of the room.

“Here ya go baby,” she said to Ripley as she walked over to her and handed her the first mug of coffee. “Just the way you like it,” she said, squeezing Ripley’s bicep for a moment. Ripley felt too tired to reply, so she just gave Ms. Lowell a smile and sipped on her hazelnut coffee with two sugars and cream. Van walked past Ripley and into the orange kitchen.

“Are we sleeping in the basement tonight, Ms. Lowell?” he asked, glancing over at Brynn and Ellison. Ms Lowell stirred another mug of coffee and nodded.

“The sleepin’ bags are already in the basement, why don’tcha girls head on down?” she said to Brynn and Ellison. Brynn looked over at Ripley who was nodding with her thawing hands wrapped around the steaming mug. Brynn stood up with Hadley and tugged on Ellison’s coat. Ellison stood up shortly after, shot Ripley an angry look, and then stormed past her, further down the dark hallway without another word. Ripley shut her eyes and sighed again, reopening them when Brynn walked up to her and gave a weak smile.

“Night,” she said. Ripley kissed the top of Hadley’s head and then the top of Brynn’s. Then they walked past her too and Ripley walked into the kitchen, taking Ellison’s seat. She set the mug on the table and wrapped her hands around it again. She shrugged off the blanket and it fell behind her on the wooden seat. She stared down at the coffee with tired, puffy, red eyes while Van and Ms. Lowell joined her with two more cups of coffee. She sat across from Ripley, closest to the blinds while Van took Brynn’s seat. Thankfully Ms. Lowell didn’t have any other family, so they weren’t waking anyone up or causing an inconvenience whenever they happened to drop by. Ripley never knew how to thank her enough.

“So, what’s the plan this time, baby?” Ms. Lowell asked. Ripley raised her eyebrows and shrugged, her eyes still focused on the coffee in front of her.

“The usual, I guess. If the police ask any questions, we were never here. In the meantime, we need to come up with the money to bail out Melvin and Babs… however much that is this time around,” she said, glancing over at Van who was gulping his black coffee. She knew in the back of her mind that they were more than likely caught with cocaine instead of a simple domestic disturbance, so she may not actually be able to save her parents from this one, but it was worth a shot… and it wasn’t worth telling Van in that moment.

“Remind me again why we can’t just leave ‘em to rot in there?” he asked. Ripley looked at Ms. Lowell in disbelief and then stared him down while Ms. Lowell leaned back in her seat and slurped her decaf, cream-filled coffee, like she was ready to sit back and watch the s*** show, making room for Ripley to tear him a new one.

“You wanna live in a foster home ‘til you turn 18? That sound good to you?” she asked him. Van sighed and scratched the back of his head, looking towards the hallway.

“And remind me again why you can’t just take custody of us when you turn eighteen in March so we don’t have to keep losin’ our paychecks every time they get busted?” he asked. Ms. Lowell glanced between the two of them as Ripley shook her head at him.

“You really want me to be your legal guardian?” she asked.

“Well, it’s better than the alternative,” he replied.

“No, it’s not,” she retorted.

“Why?” he asked. Ripley ran her tongue over her top teeth and leaned in close to Van so she could still sound menacing without having to raise her voice.
“Because it’s not just somethin’ that’ll solve all our problems. It’d make yours worse. Cause, you see, as your guardian, I’m not coverin’ for ya when you’re fake-sick and skippin’ school. I’m not bailin’ your a** out when you get arrested for stealing. I’m not turnin’ my back when you sneak a girl up to your room. I’m not lettin’ you go out in the middle of the night with your buddies. I’m not lookin’ the other way anymore when you officially become my responsibility. I’m not f***in’ around,” Ripley said, counting on her fingers with each sentence. She’d need a full-time job and a place for them to live, because no way would she be able to afford the house they were living in anymore. Meanwhile, Ms. Lowell was just nodding, knowing how difficult of a job that would be for a seventeen-year-old. It was quickly pissing off Ripley how cavalier Van was still treating this. Then again, he treated everything this way.

“Hey – I’m just wondering why you’re passing up on such a powerful opportunity,” Van finally replied. “You’ve always wanted control, and pretty soon you’ll be able to have it.”

“F*** off,” Ripley said and sipped her coffee while Ms. Lowell chuckled.

“I don’t want you as my guardian anyways,” another voice added into the mix. Everyone’s heads turned to the hallway to see Ellison. She had her coat off and her hair pushed back behind her ears. Her arms were folded over her chest and she was staring Ripley.

“Go back to bed,” Ripley said. Ellison shook her head.

“No,” she replied. Ripley set down her coffee and stood up from her chair.

“Excuse you?” she asked. Ellison’s fists clenched.

“You heard me. You’re not my ‘guardian’,” she said, using air quotes. “You can’t tell me what to do.” Ripley looked back at Van while Ms. Lowell stood up from her seat.

“No fightin’ in this house, okay? I want nothin’ but peace and quiet from y’all when you stay here or I ain’t lettin’ you stay here ever again. Got it?” she said to Ellison in a low tone. Ellison’s face turned red with embarrassment as she nodded.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Lowell,” she said and Ripley gave Ms. Lowell an apologetic look as well.

“I’m so sorry, it’s been a long night, and I don’t know what’s gotten into her,” she added like Ellison wasn’t even standing there and then walked back to the table. Ellison huffed and ran back down the hallway and into the basement. She slammed the basement door shut, causing Ms. Lowell to flinch. Van licked coffee off of his upper lip and he glanced up at Ms. Lowell.

“Well, I’d say watchin’ her parents get arrested probably did her in, but that’s just me,” he said sarcastically and Ms. Lowell shot him a warning glance as Ripley glared at him again.

“It’s nothin’ she hasn’t seen before,” she said with a shake of her head and she brought the coffee mug to her lips.

“Doesn’t make it any less traumatizing,” he shot back.

“Who asked you, Van?” she snapped as she slammed the mug back onto the table, spilling coffee onto the orange table cloth. Ms. Lowell sighed and walked across the room to get napkins out the cabinet above the stove.

“I’m about to ask y’all ta leave if ya don’t stop screamin’ and slammin’ things. This ain’t your house and it’s one thirty in the f***in’ mornin’. You’re lucky I even letcha in at all,” she reminded them angrily as she walked back over to the table and patted on the spot where Ripley spilt her coffee. Now it was Ripley’s turn to turn red with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry again, Ms. Lowell. We’ll be outta your hair by mornin’,” she promised with a nod. Van was just staring at her with one eyebrow raised and an unamused look on his face.

“So what, you just gonna head on down to bail Melvin and Babs out tomorrow, like usual?” Van asked, obviously not satisfied.

“What would you like me to do?” Ripley asked.

“Leave ‘em,” he said.

“I’m not fightin’ to take custody, Van.”

“Well El clearly doesn’t want you to anyways.”

“So, you do wanna end up in foster care for three years, then? Social services won’t let us just stay at home while they serve time. Who knows, they may not even let you guys go home after they get out of prison.”

“You mean us.”

“No, I mean you. I’m only seventeen for two more months.”

“Then why the fuck do you care so much?”

“Well, excuse me for givin’ a s*** about what happens to my younger siblings,” Ripley growled, trying not to raise her voice any higher than an indoor voice. “The system we’ve got goin’ now isn’t ideal, but it works. I’m not lookin’ to fix this long term,” she said. Van’s eyes lit up and he pointed at her.

“Ah, I get it now, so your care only goes so far because you still want to have a life,” Van said as though he had just figured out a riddle with a smirk. He sucked on his teeth. “And I thought you hadn’t thought about yourself in 15 years,” he added. Ripley became so angry at this point that she broke out into an “I-can’t-believe-this” smile. Angry tears filled up her brown eyes and she looked over at Ms. Lowell who was now standing near the fridge, just watching them. Ripley sniffled, stood up from the table, and pushed the chair back in.

“Thanks for everythin’,” she said to Ms. Lowell in a shaky voice, and then she turned to Van and said, “Since you think you’re so smart, let’s see how you handle this one: looks like mom and dad were busted for domestic abuse and cocaine charges this time,” she said. A part of her enjoyed watching that smirk of his turn into a frown, and another part of her wished she hadn’t done it. Then she walked back out into the dark hallway, yelled: “I got a test to study for, so, you’re on your own,” over her shoulder, and then walked out the backdoor. She stepped back out into the snow and heard one of her younger sisters cry out her name, more than likely Brynn, but she continued walking and never looked back.