Light the Cruciform ( A Ku Klux Klan story) - Part 2

I got home later than normal, all because of Zachary Ethelwulf. As usual, my parents were arguing. A few bubbles splashed over the edge of the pot, making a hissing sound on the stove that eventually erupted into full-fledged violence. I went straight to my room and shut my door out on the sound. I blasted AFI as loud as I could get away with in this house.

"I can't believe you are going to join that group! For God's sake, Roland, why do you have to do that? That group is so horrid and hateful - heck, I thought you'd have better sense than that!" Mother roared.

"Quiet, Woman! I'll do whatever I want around this household. You aren't the boss!" Father bellowed, closely resembling the sound of a wounded bear. I could hardly concentrate on my homework with all the shouting and screaming they did out there. It was one of the times I wished I had a sibling; this way, I'd have someone to comfort me when things got out of hand.

It was bad enough living in this horrid house, where my parents fought daily. My father was a stupid, racist drunk whose lifetime dream was to join the Ku Klux Klan. My mother was a wannabe country singer who was a total bar fly at the tavern nearby. She, too, was a drunk. Why, she'd come home drunk more times than I could count on my fingers and toes in the last three months. I knew she was cheating on my father, but I really couldn't blame her. Why couldn't they just get a divorce already? It was sickening listening to them bicker!

"I do more around here than you do!" Mother slapped her hand against the table. That sent her off on another fit of cussing. She used words that even the most uneducated people I knew didn't use. Even my boyfriend, Justin, didn't use words such as that.

I wanted to get something to eat; I'd spotted a box of take-out pizza on the counter in the kitchen, but I didn't want to wade through the war to get to it. I just sat there, starved, and waited for my mother and father to shut the heck up. Wham! A fist striking flesh! My mother screamed loudly and began to cry. I could just see my father standing over her, his bloated face red with fury as he screamed, "You stupid woman! Don't you say lies like that again! You keep it up and I'll throw you into the trash where you belong!"

Mother's crying became subdued. All at once, the war ended and I was left in peace for a little while. Moments later, my bedroom door bursted open and my mother waltzed in, still wearing that ridiculous cowboy hat, boots, fringed, hip-hugger jeans, and a denim cropped top; she looked likeed terrible. I wished she would act like a real mother towards me and bake me cookies. Instead, she was a bulimic who wore too much make-up. How tore up she appeared. Like she'd traveled a long road. I hoped I didn't turn out to look like that when I reached her age.

"Tara, did you hear anything we said?" She sat down on my desk chair and casually pulled a pack of cigarettes out from the pocket of her shirt. I watched her light a cigarette. Strands of fluffy blond hair fell across her face.

"I was too busy looking over my interview," I lied. How could I do anything but hear that crap?

"Promise me you won't marry trash like that," she begged.

I was planning on marrying Justin in the near future. He was far from trash and I knew he was well respected by my parents. "I won't."

"You are a good girl. I'm sure you won't."

I didn't want to talk to her anymore, so I asked, "Is there any pizza left?"

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