Left for Garbage

It’s like he’s waiting for the right time to come to meet me, and then when he does, we’ll go away and start over and maybe have new babies. I mean, not to replace Deeley or anything, just that ever since she was born, I’ve kind of picked up on how guys want their own kids. He probably wants boys, like Aaron did, little Johnny or Bradley juniors, so I’d be willing to get pregnant again if it was important to him.
    Anyway , for a little while anyway, for a whole month, I was home again and it was amazing. But the authorities just couldn’t take it. The media and the public started screaming for my blood like I was Ted Bundy or someone out having a good time at their expense, and they made up a fake murder charge, even though there is no body, which Salvatore says is certain to get me freed. ‘No body, no crime’, that’s what he says.
    I got kind of mad at him yesterday because after he said that about no body, he look ed at me all seriously and said, “There’s no body, right, Denise?”
    I didn’t even bother to answer. I told him he sounded like the fucking media , asking me something like that. It’s the media which put me back here, which forced the police to charge me for murder. That freak Charlotte Hope was the worst. As a matter of fact, my parents and I were watching her the night they brought me back here to jail. Ever since the first time I got home, this huge group of disgusting losers have basically moved onto our street, and they have nasty signs, and they cook food on the sidewalks like homeless people, and shout at my family, it was really bad.
    They really are like homeless people . Like the night I got taken back, my dad was looking out the window and he saw one of them taking a huge dump right in the middle of our front yard! I mean, OMG, it’s hard to believe people like that even exist, and I don’t know what it means for the future of America that stuff like this is allowed to happen.
    My dad can’t hold a job but he does take good care of the yard , so he got all fired up and told me and my mom he was going to go out there and kick some ass. Mom said, “Don’t do it”, because there were press out there and it wouldn’t look good, but he went out anyway and he started shouting at the guy to clean it up, and the guy told him to make his “Killer whore of a daughter come out and do it.”
    I got so pissed off when I heard that , I picked up the phone and called 911, and said my dad was being assaulted.
    So , a few minutes later, after my mom talked my dad into coming back inside and waiting for the cops to show up, we were all kind of watching Charlotte Hope, just to see what new lies she had, and we saw that one of her camera people was filming our house while she was talking. I mean, we were live … well our house was.
    My dad said, “Hey, look, those asshole cops are doing their job for a change. They’re already here.”
    And he was right . We could see them on the TV coming up our walkway, and because I wanted to see them haul the phantom crapper off, I told my parents I’d get the door, which I did.
    So I saved them the troub le of even having to ask for me. They slapped on the cuffs right there on the doorstep, in front of Charlotte Hope’s camera crew and all the crazies who were hanging out hoping for something just like that. I could hear them still screaming at me until the police cruiser I was in turned at the end of our block.
    Salvatore says I’m here now for the duration, and who th e hell knows how long that is. Sometimes I wish … well, I wish I could go back. There’s not any one day I’d pick … that’s not what I’m saying … I just wish I could go back, back home again, and sit in my own bedroom and look into my mirror again. It always makes me feel better.
    I can’t figure out who I feel like a nymore if I can’t see my face. The girl in the piece of steel that passes for a mirror here doesn’t look like I’m supposed to. It’s so stupid the way you can’t have real forks or a pencil or perfume, but no mirrors are the worst. They’re afraid you’d break a real one and try to cut yourself. I’m not looking to kill myself. I just want to see myself again.
    I’ll be honest, mirrors are important to me, but not in a vain way. Most people, when they see themselves, they’re seeing through their own eyes, but not me. I make it a point to see what other people will see when they look at me, because when you stop caring about the