Chapter Twenty-Five
Pictures filled thewall, so many of them that they took on the appearance of wallpaper. I loved looking at them. I was glad Mother had bought me a camera for my thirteenth birthday. I can honestly say that it was at that moment, when I first held the silver camera in my hands, that I knew I’d never stop taking pictures of life and of people who interested and angered me. My pictures were like a journal of sorts for me; I could remember where I was, what I was doing, and on which date. Every detail was there in the photographs.
I went over my new pictures I’d just printed out at the print shop. My quandary was where I was going to put them. I stood back for a long time, the scent of the red roses on the table behind me so fragrant. And then I saw the perfect spot for my new pictures. Right between the photograph of Muerto and Raven on the front porch drinking lemonade—it’d been so hot that day—and the other photograph of them kissing on the sidewalk before he rode away on his macho-man Harley.
I picked up two pictures of the pool hall: one of the wonderfully graffitied walls, the other showing the smashed glass. They were perfect. And I must admit that I did a beautiful job on the walls. The letters were all spray-painted to perfection, same height and thickness. I was sure whoever saw them appreciated the effort I’d put into the whole thing.
I had to do it. I had to punish him for being so stupid to take up with such a wanton slut. Picking up a black marker, I glanced at the wall of photographs ofthem.I took off the cap and carefully placed an X over his face in most of the photographs, and then I neatly wrote “slut” and “whore” over her face in red marker. It’d taken me a little more than an hour to do it, and I had to drag out the ladder from the back, hoping no one would see me.
But it’d been worth the effort. I stood back and admired my handiwork, feeling a bit smug with myself. He’d allowed her to lead him astray. I’d given him some leeway, but now I knew he enjoyed fornicating. They both deserved to be punished.
A smile played on my lips as I remembered one of Mother’s favorite quotes from the Bible, Isaiah 13:11. “And I will punish the world for their evil, and the wicked for their iniquity; and I will cause the arrogance of the proud to cease, and will lay low the haughtiness of the terrible.”
And that’s exactly what I’d planned to do—punish the wicked.
