The Bitches, Part 13

Catch up with the first 12 parts here!

[Now]

Cherish lifts her head out of her hands. She stares at her palms, still tinged pink. “There are things,” she whispers, “that I’ve had the courage to do.”

The Bitches scoff, their favourite verbal expression when it comes to her. “You? Courage? Those two words don’t belong in the same sentence.”

Cherish glares at them. The Bitches are so ugly; The Bitches are so beautiful. “There are things,” she says, a little louder than the first time, “that I have had the courage to do.”

“Okay…heard you the first time. Still don’t believe you; still not buying it.”

Cherish is now speaking at her regular volume. “There are things,” and she balls her hands into fists, training her eyes at The Bitches, who stand before her, their expressions partially smug, partially amused, “that I’ve had the courage to do.”

“The fuck,” Bitch One puzzles, “are you stuck in an infinite loop?”

Like a dog, Cherish bares her teeth, and starts to walk towards The Bitches, who actually back up – albeit mockingly – their eyes wide and their hands held up in a parody of surrender.

“Oooh,” Bitch Two giggles. “Someone’s grown a pair.”

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The Bitches, Part 12.

Refresh your memory here!

[Now]

The Bitches aren’t fazed at all.

“So? Go ahead, get it over with already!” Bitch One urges.

“Seriously,” agrees Bitch Two. “You’re better off dead, and you know it!”

“You think you offing yourself is a threat to us? We encourage it! Go the fuck ahead!”

“You look like a stupid, ugly wet rat standing there!”

“Hell, if you don’t do it soon, maybe we can help!”

Cherish is still standing in the shower, the water on full blast, the razor still poised above her wrist. The hand that’s holding the razor is trembling now as she considers her next move. All the courage she’d had, that made her challenge The Bitches mere moments ago, has seemed to go down the drain with the water.

“What are you waitin’ for? What do you have left? You’ve lost your man, who, by the way, is marrying someone else…”

“You’ve lost your job…”

“You’re broke…”

“Fat…”

“Ugly…”

“And, oh yeah! The cops are after your ass!”

“So whaddya have left to live for?”

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The Bitches, Part 11

Refresh your memory here!

[Then]

The Woman Who Looks Like Cherish’s Sisters never came back after Cherish had found her on the couch with The Man She Used To Know. Cherish told herself that she didn’t care, but she was curious as to where she went. Finally moved into her condo? (Cherish suspected that the condo had been ready the whole time and The Woman Who Looks Like Cherish’s Sisters just pretended it hadn’t – to her own advantage). Found another home to wreck? Cherish sincerely hoped it was the latter, because that would mean she would leave The Man She Used To Know alone.

Either way, it didn’t matter.

“Look,” The Man She Used To Know said the same night he’d been caught fucking The Woman Who Looks Like Cherish’s Sisters. Cherish was still smarting from his rejection – and partially ashamed of herself for throwing herself at him. It was like hanging onto the edge of a cliff by your fingernails, clawing desperately but futilely at rocks and dirt, knowing that no matter how much you crawled and fought, you were still going to fall off the edge.

“Look. It’s clear we’ve run our course. We can talk and talk and talk and talk, but at the end of the day…” He threw up his hands. “It’s over.”

Cherish was sitting on the bed, her arms still wrapped around her folded legs, her head resting on her arms. The Man She Used To Know sat about a foot away from her. She opened her mouth, but he raised a hand before she could start speaking. “I know what you’re about to say. And you’re right: cheating on you was completely wrong. I’m totally going to put that out there. And I’m sorry you had to see what you saw today.”

“Please. I think you wanted to get caught. And having her live here? Taking all these liberties? Pretty fucked up.”

The Man She Used To Know sighed and stood up. “I’ve already apologized for and acknowledged that, okay? I don’t want to fight with you anymore; nor do I want to draw this out anymore. So,” and he turned to face her, clasping his hands together. “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to move out.” He flinched slightly as he awaited her reaction.

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The Bitches Will Be Right Back After These Messages.

There’s been an influx of posts lately and none of them have been The Bitches. But I do plan on finishing it, unlike some of my other stories on here (which I also plan on finishing…sometime before I die.)


The Bitches, Part 10.

(Refresh your memory here!)

The knocking continues.

“Miss Cherish! Miss Cherish!” her landlord calls once again. Then, in a  lower voice, “I’m so sorry, officer; I thought she was here. I’m certain she never left!” More knocking ensues.

Though Cherish isn’t entirely sure if this round of knocking is coming from her landlord’s fist on the on the other side of the door, or her knees. Or maybe it’s her heart knocking against her chest. Which makes her scared: what if they can hear her, even though she’s wedged herself in the corner of her closet?

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The Bitches, Part 9

Read all 9 parts here!

“So?” Cherish was sitting up straight with her back against the headboard, fully under the covers now, her arms crossed. The Man She Used To Know sat at the very end and very edge of the bed, not looking at her. Like this, it seemed impossible to believe that they’d ever performed any intimacy whatsoever there.

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The Bitches, Part 8.

The Bitches are chanting.

“Do it, do it, do it,” they urge in fervent whispers.

Cherish’s heart pounds. She’s shaking and sweating, sure she’s gonna barf. Or lose control of her bowels.

She knows she’s gone too far. But she also knows that this has to be done or she won’t have any peace.  And she’s so damn exhausted: her body begs for rest. So The Bitches need not push her with such force. She’s gonna do it,  just on her own time. She’ll be damned if she is actually going to tell them this, though. Because to do so would be to acknowledge them and there’s no way in hell she’s gonna do that.

Ever.

So she’s trying her best to ignore them as she closes her eyes, takes several deep breaths and –

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