Fix Her

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2002 was the most important year of my life. Mom just didn't understand me. I was a hormonal and lonely teen, craving affection and relief from the tedious boredom of my daily life. Smoking made me feel different, not so bored or stressed out. I drank a couple times a month, but only on weekends. It was a fun change of pace. Mom kept bugging me, but there was no way I was going to clean stranger's houses or babysit a bunch of brats, or get a job out of our neighborhood and travel every day.

We'd moved to town half a year before, on my eighteenth birthday. I'd never touched a boy or even thought about sex before. The week after we moved a handsome neighbor gave me my first-ever kiss on the lips. I enjoyed it, but turned and left when he put a hand on my butt. Later I heard he was married with three kids!

A lot of people said I had a pretty face and nice body. They liked my pretty strawberry-blonde hair, too. At five foot nine (175cm ) only five girls in the whole school were taller, but none of them had my hourglass figure. Men glanced or stared at the shape of my tops often, but I wished I had more than my 32 Bs. Most girls in my classes were jealous and didn't like me, so it was very hard to make any female friends.

Men liked me just fine, though. They were a lot of fun; complimenting and flirting with me, kissing me, touching me. Each weekend I picked a guy or two and let them play with my body, until they tried to fuck me or stick their dick in my mouth, then I told them "No." I did give a few handjobs to four guys I really liked. I even let 'em lick my kitty a few times, but was intent on staying a virgin until I was married, or at least engaged. I had a great time with them, until they found somebody sluttier and left me heartbroken.

It was the night after high school graduation. Mom freaked out when she opened my bedroom door. I was two and a half years from 21, but drank from a half-full bottle of whiskey with a lit cigarette in my other hand. Both my nearly naked boyfriends were kissing my bare B cup breasts. I was topless and they only wore boxer shorts and socks, but it's not like we were fucking or anything. I still had my jeans on.

After the guys grabbed their clothes and ran off, Mom and I had our biggest argument ever. I was pretty drunk and so angry that I don't remember most of it. We shouted and cried until I passed out from exhaustion. Or maybe the booze.

I woke badly hungover and heard Mom dial a number on her cell phone. I quietly crept down the hall to listen in. She set it on the kitchen table, turned it on speaker, then lit a cigarette. I watched from the hallway. She sucked in and exhaled a few puffs, and I felt a major craving. My cell phone and all my cigarettes were gone, so she must have taken them.

I was frustrated and angry that she wouldn't let me smoke. She smoked like a chimney, three packs a day, but wouldn't let me have the one pack a day I wanted, or even the five cigs a day I desperately needed to keep my sanity. I hadn't smoked in twelve hours, far too long! I couldn't decide if my hangover or need for nicotine was worse.

I overheard her beg, "My daughter Katie is such a bitch all the time! She leaves dirty clothes all over, won't clean the place up, and curses a lot. She won't get a job so she can find a place and move out. She's rude and argues any time I say something. Such a difficult WENCH! Can you take her for the summer? She's making me crazy! Can you please fix her, like you fixed me?"

I was highly offended! I wasn't a broken THING! I didn't need to be FIXED!

A mature man's gravelly voice responded, "Is she pregnant or on drugs, like you were?"

"I don't think so. I explained sex and gave her a bunch of condoms a while back. I did catch her smoking and drinking, and screwing around with men."

I ran in the kitchen and objected, "I'm a virgin! I never let anybody FUCK me! I'm not a WHORE, like you!"

! WHACK!Everything went dark and my ears rang for a moment. Pain surged into my left cheek. I was shocked that she slapped me! "Shut up and go to your room! NOW! Or get the FUCK out of my house!"

"It's an apartment, you stupid BITCH!"

! WHACK!She slapped me again, so hard I nearly lost my balance and fell! Teardrops streamed down my cheeks as I retreated to my bed. I quietly mumbled to myself, "Such a cunt!"

I tried to stop crying and listened intently. "... never does anything I say!... can't control her anymore... have to help me! Please fix her?" I got angry again. Parents were supposed to teach and help their kids, not control them! Wanting fun and freedom didn't mean I was BROKEN!

As I quietly walked back to the hall the gravelly voice returned. "All summer, three months?"

"Yeah. She doesn't want to go, but college starts the first week of September."

"If I do, I can fix her the same way I did with you?", the old man asked.

I listened closely and watched Mom from behind. She sighed loudly as she exhaled a cloud, then agreed, "Huff! Whatever it takes, so I can finally get some peace!"

"You want to bring her over next weekend?" I vaguely recognized his voice. I'd heard it somewhere, a long time before.

She chain-smoked, lighting a fresh cig with her nearly dead one, then crushed out the butt in the overflowing ashtray. I wanted to smoke SO BAD! And my aching head!

Mom asked, "How about today? Are you busy?"

"If the sun is up, I'm busy. But okay. Meet you in Strawville? At Dillons in three hours?"

"Thank you! Thanks so much! See you about four o'clock."

I wondered and asked, "Strawville? Where the fuck is that?" I'd never heard of it.

She suddenly jumped up. "Dammit! You scared me! You're lucky I'm giving you a choice! You have ten minutes to pack your things and get in the car! You're spending the summer with your grandfather. If you don't, I'm kicking you out of the house RIGHT NOW!"

"Mom, what the HELL?" Our conflict wasn't funny or amusing to me anymore. I started to worry that she might be serious.

She stared at her phone. "Your choice if you go live in a cardboard box somewhere, or go stay with your grandfather. Either way, you're out of here in NINE MINUTES! Tick tock, tick tock!" It was quite obvious she meant it.

I grabbed a suitcase and my backpack from the closet. I pushed back my anxiety and tried to be casual, giving my favorite reply, "Whatever."

! SMACK!She slapped my buttocks HARD and glared at me. "Hurry up!"

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Mom and I were tired of fruitless arguments, and listened to her sad and awful Country music on the very long drive. Normally it was rare we went a minute without saying something, but we were icily mute for hours. The city faded away over the course of twenty minutes, then we were out of the suburbs an hour later. The scenery changed from restaurants and apartment buildings to large family homes, to small homes with huge yards, and then endless miles of cows and corn.

She must have smoked eight or nine cigs on the way, but I wouldn't show weakness and admit I desperately needed one. I looked up from the magazine I was reading and had no idea where we were, probably between nowhere and the armpit of the world.

My headache slowly intensified and I felt like bugs were crawling on me! I needed to smoke so bad! A beer or a shot of booze would dull my senses and take the edge off the vicious nicotine withdrawl. Or if I could at least eat or chew on something to soothe my tense jaw muscles. I hadn't eaten since lunch the day before and was quite hungry.

Eventually we reached a small town, not even that. A sign at the World War 2 era gas station showed a ridiculous Marlboro price of $4.50 a pack, a whole dollar more than the store near home! Still, my cravings were so intense I might have paid that for a single puff, if I had any money! The only other buildings in Strawville were a run-down bar with little paint left on the wooden siding, a cheap motel with only ten rooms, and exactly two dozen houses.

Mom parked at the tavern and took out her cell. She let out a big sigh and said, "Your gramps isn't coming. His goats escaped the pasture as he was leaving, and he needs to round them up. He'll come get you tomorrow morning."

I commented, "Well that sucks!"

Mom ordered, "Not my problem. Get out!"

My mood quickly changed from annoyed to afraid. "Wait! I'm really hungry and I don't have any money! I don't know anybody, and you still have my phone."

She sighed again. "Here's your cell. We'll eat at the bar. After that, you're on your own!"

We and several men stared as two girls around thirty staggered out of the bar. One was Black, dressed in an orange bikini with red high heels. The other looked Asian and only wore sandals, a short yellow t-shirt, and pink panties. They were obviously WHORES! Probably thieves and drug addicts, too! They wobbled back and forth as they walked, obviously high or drunk. Several men leered at them while the girls shambled to the motel.

I was startled by a swat to my bottom and, "Move your ass, Katherine!" I reluctantly followed my mother into the ancient tavern in the middle of nowhere.

A very chubby guy sat at the near end of the bar, on the only stool with a back on it. His huge but still tight tan uniform had a badge on it. The cop was forty-ish and well over three hundred pounds. Six or seven other men sat on stools and stared as we walked in. A sign near the front door said, 'Free Beer + Food for Topless Girls Under 40!'

Mom commanded, "You don't need money. Take off your shirt and bra, and order something." Three guys clapped when she pulled her green V-neck shirt off over her head!

I anxiously wondered what the HELL I was getting myself into!

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