Buku Bad Ideas by Missy Marston

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Bad Ideas by Missy Marston

Author:Missy Marston

Language: eng

Format: epub

Publisher: ECW Press

Published: 2019-04-22T16:00:00+00:00

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Bad Ideas by Missy Marston

Mercy

Because nothing is ever quite the way you want it to be

For the record, this is what Mercy thought. She thought that nothing was ever quite the way you wanted it to be. It could be close. But it was never right. She had Trudy and Grandma, but she wanted her mother. Or for her mother to be dead and Trudy to be her mother. She felt bad for thinking this, but she thought it sometimes anyway.

 

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Bad Ideas by Missy Marston

 

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Bad Ideas by Missy Marston

Author:Missy Marston , Date: June 11, 2019

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Author:Missy Marston

Language: eng

Format: epub

Publisher: ECW Press

Published: 2019-04-22T16:00:00+00:00
Mercy

Because nothing is ever quite the way you want it to be

For the record, this is what Mercy thought. She thought that nothing was ever quite the way you wanted it to be. It could be close. But it was never right. She had Trudy and Grandma, but she wanted her mother. Or for her mother to be dead and Trudy to be her mother. She felt bad for thinking this, but she thought it sometimes anyway.

She wanted people to listen to her. They did. But they always laughed. They never just listened and understood and answered back to her in a way that helped. She could never say things in a way that didn’t make grown-ups laugh.

Mercy wanted to stay up late, to eat more candy, to do things by herself. She wanted her own room, but she was scared to be alone in the dark. She wanted there to be no such thing as dying, even if there was such a thing as God in Heaven.

She wanted school to start in August, not September, so she could go sooner. She wanted to have long shining hair. Trudy’s hair was thick and dark and shiny and her ponytail was as thick as Mercy’s wrist. Like the tail of a real pony. Mercy’s hair was light brown, a little bit greyish like a mouse, and so thin that her ears poked through at the sides. When Trudy put Mercy’s hair back in a ponytail, it was a scraggly little mouse tail.

For her birthday last year, she had asked for a purse, picturing herself walking around with Trudy’s big, slouchy brown leather bag over her shoulder, tossing her hair back, digging around in there for some gum or a nickel. (But not cigarettes. She was never going to smoke. The smell was awful.) But when she had opened her present from Grandma Claire, it was a tiny plastic pink-and-white purse. A toy purse. With a cartoon lamb on the front. It made her feel like a baby. But she still said thank you. She still climbed into her grandma’s lap and kissed her on the cheek. She still carried the purse around everywhere she went, put Chiclets and pennies and a tiny doll-mirror in there. A key she found along the side of the road. She pretended it was a little bit different, turned the lamb side toward her body so nobody could see it. She made do.

In September, she would be five. She tried not to get her hopes up about presents.

Mercy wanted everything to be right. She wanted everyone to be happy. She wanted the adults to pair off like dance partners, like in a fairy tale. Trudy should marry Jules. Trudy’s father should come home and marry Grandma Claire. Her mom should come home married to a rich prince who would buy them a big house with canopy beds and a swimming pool.

They would have more puppies. And kittens. Both.

She should be allowed to go to school right now.

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