Unfortunately, when I went in my files, I had this titled "mariestory1" and not it's actual title. In any event, truly one of the most talented authors I've ever read, this is a story by Marie B.; hope you all enjoy.
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Missy: In the real world, it’s a pure fact that winners always win and losers always lose. That’s the way it’s always been. I’ve been a plumb loser all my life; and for once, I'm fixin' to change it.
I stand here lookin’ at my rich cousin Hallie, always so beautiful, so together, so cool. She’s a winner and always has been. How many times has she proven that she’s a-better than me? How many times has she succeeded while I’ve failed? How many times has she reminded me that my portion of the family is from the wrong side of the tracks while hers is from the right side?
She beats me at everything. When I say “beats me,” am I talking about fighting?
No, it’s never come to that before. But she’s prettier than me, gets better grades, has more friends, dresses a-prettier, and her folks got more money. A lot more money.
But, this time is different. This time I’m going to be better’n her…… at the one thing in life that I know I can take her measure in………. Fightin’.
Why?
Because this time, she done stole my boyfriend away from me. He was the first and only boyfriend I ever had and she stole him away just as easily as she’s taken everything else away from me over the years. She took him just as slick as shit through a goose.
So today, I’m gonna beat her up. I have all the motivation in the world on my side, that’s for durn sure. Also, I have the physical advantages on my side, and they are going to carry me through to the first victory of any kind I’ve ever scored over her.
Hallie: It’s the way Missy is looking at me that is making me uncertain, probably for the first time in my life. She thinks I stole her boyfriend and she wants to beat me up for doing it. I didn’t steal him; that’s a fact. He came to me. He told me he wanted to dump her and be with me, but I can’t convince Missy of that.
Don’t you think I’ve known how she has always felt about me? She’s thinks that I’ve been pampered and had life easy……and she’s right. When you compare us; you’d agree that she’s had a tougher life, having been born into the “poor relations” segment of our extended family. How in hell can we be related, anyway? Did one of the rich guys in my family impregnate a maid who came from her side? Or a gardener? Or someone who shovels shit for a living? I don’t know the answer, but Missy is my cousin…..somehow. She’s poorer than me, has less confidence, fewer friends, and has had fewer breaks. All of that is true.
Have I held it over her? Well, if I’m going to be honest about all this, I’d have to say yes. I’ve lorded my superiority over Missy so many times I’ve lost count. Tough shit. If you’ve got it, you flaunt it……and I’ve got it. I’m so much prettier and popular than her that it almost seems unfair.
I say, almost. But I don’t apologize for it; I’ve earned it. I’ve always been better than Missy at everything.
But, now there’s this. I have her boyfriend and she wants to fight me over it. I don’t want to fight her. If I can’t talk her out of this, I’m going to have to engage in my first fight ever. The thought of physical combat nauseates me. It’s beneath me. But while I’ve never been in a fight, I know that Missy has. Where she comes from, she’s had to fight for her life a few times. She’s built for it, though. I’m not.
It’s a weird thing; we have the same measurements. We’re both 5’7 and 125 pounds; but the similarity ends there.
Missy: I’m not ashamed of what I am. I wasn’t born into wealth and privilege like Hallie was, but I have no problem with making my way through life by workin’ hard. My body has been hardened by a ton of manual labor jobs over the years, while hers is more suited to reclinin’ while she receives her manicures and pedicures and whatever-icures. Look at her; standing there wearing a dress with high heels and nylon stockings. I mean, stockings, and it’s not even time for church-goin’ on Sunday!
Hallie: And look at Missy; wearing those heavy duty jeans of hers with a flannel shirt and work shoes. But she looks tough and determined, that’s for sure.
Missy: Finally, I’ve come upon something I can beat her at……fighting.
Hallie: Finally, she’s come upon something she can beat me at………fighting.
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“But I don’t want to fight you, Missy.”
“Then why did you come here?” asked Missy. “You steal my boyfriend from under my nose, you take advantage of me for the zillionth time, you show me that you think I’m shit compared to you……..and then you’re surprised that I plan to rassle your ass to the ground?”
“I came to try and explain to you what happened,” said Hallie. “I want you to understand that I wasn’t intending to take Bobby away from you. Please, Missy, I don’t want these bad feelings to exist between us. Don’t you think I know that you would hurt me in a fight? Do you think I would have come to visit you in this shack if I intended to fight you?”
“This shack?” exclaims Missy. “This “shack” is my home, you prissy bitch! This “shack” is the only place my parents can afford to keep us. Good Lord, you insult me even when you ain’t meaning to. That’s how it’s been our entire lives, Hallie. This isn’t the first time I’ve ever wanted to hit you for being better’n me at everything, but it’s the first time I’m actually gonna do it. I know how weak and pampered you are; that’s why I never got physical before. But I love Bobby, I truly do…..and if that’s not an offense worth a beatin’, I don’t know what is. You’re a fool to have come here, Hallie.”
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Hallie: I shrink back in terror when I see the look of hatred on her face. We are standing in the garage of her parent’s shack….er, I mean house. The door is closed and there is no chance of running away, although I gladly would seize that opportunity if I could. The place smells like old tires and gasoline; there is all kinds of junk scattered about. Missy is advancing on me, and I know that begging and pleading isn’t going to get me out of this.
Missy: As I walk toward her, all the memories come back to me in a rush, and I realize that I have been waiting a long time for this. Why have I waited so long to beat up Hallie? I certainly haven’t hesitated to fight other girls in the past. Everyone on this side o’ town remembers when I knocked out Sophie, the waitress over to the Sunshine Diner, for spreading lies about me. Hell, I’ve even gotten into a scrap or two with guys and came out of it in pretty good shape. Now, here’s this soft, purty, well-turned-out gal standin’ in front of me. I clench my hands into fists and show them to her as I close the distance between us.
Hallie: What do I do now? All my years of breeding and superiority are about to crumble with this one encounter. I’ve never lost at anything before, and certainly not to Missy. I was born to triumph. But how can I beat this country bumpkin in a fight? Oh, why did I get myself into this? In my expensive outfit, I’m not even dressed for it.
Missy: I curl my hands into claws and slowly walk toward Hallie. She sees me a-comin’ and hears me a-snarlin’ and her face goes pale as paper. She puts up her own hands in a warding-off position, but you could tell that she doesn’t have no plan in mind. Hallie backs away until she comes up against the wall of the garage. When she realizes she don’t have no farther to run, I hear a wail of fear come outta her throat.
Hallie: I want to beg her not to hurt me, but I know it will do no good. When she hears me wail in terror, the anger on her face mixes with a snarling smile and makes her look ferocious. Then, Missy grabs me by the hair with both hands and drags me forward. I cover her hands with my own, but it is simply a reflex; I have no idea how to stop her.
Missy: As I drag her by the roots of her hair, she tries to resist, but it don’t do her no good at all. With a yank of my arms, I hurl my namby-pamby cousin across the garage. She screams in pain as I heave her and she lands real awkward-like, y’know? Her legs fold under her and she scrapes her knees on the hard floor, shredding her stockings. She looks at her knees, and they are a-bleedin’.
Hallie: I stare at Missy and see the wicked smile on her face that tells me she knows she has matters well in hand. She stalks me slowly, grasps me by the hair and lifts me bodily to my feet. Her strength is amazing and I know I have to do something to extricate myself from this situation, but before I can, Missy goes on the attack. She delivers an open-handed slap to my face that stings, followed by a shot from the heel of her hand to my nose that makes me see stars. I hold my hand to my nose and find it smeared with my own blood. I want to resist; I want desperately to do something before this gets completely out of hand, but Missy never gives me the chance.
Missy: When she sees her own blood, I love the look o’ horror that comes over her face. The fightin’ fever is startin’ to come over me. I know I have a sittin’ duck in front of me, and I go to work. I ball up my fist nice and proper and smash her in the stomach with it. You can hear the wind come whooshin’ out of her…..here is a girl who ain’t never been hit in the belly before! As her knees buckle, I haul her straight up agin’ and repeat the gut shot. This time, a sound comes out of her that sounds like a parrot squawk….”AWWWK”…… that makes me laugh with glee. When she falls to her bloody knees, I lift my leg up real sharp-like and knee her in her pretty face.
Hallie: I didn’t know that such pain could exist in the world. When her knee hits my already-bleeding nose, I feel it break. I scream in agony and terror and fall flat on my back. I just want to die….right there on the spot. Instead, Missy stomps me hard on the stomach as I lay on the garage floor. For the second time, the air whooshes out of me and I think I might never breathe again. I try to roll away from her, but she grabs the back of my expensive blouse and I feel it rip. Laughing out loud, she finishes tearing it from my body, turning me onto my back in the process. Missy stands above me, looking at my ruined blouse and laughing cruelly. She looks into my eyes, and when I observe the mixture of triumph and joy that I see in them, I start to cry.
Missy: Oh, this is easy. Too durn easy, and I wonder why I had waited so long to hit this rich bitch. Look at those tears! I’m a-strippin’ her of her clothes and her dignity, and how does she answer me? By cryin’! Look at her now! She’s a-coverin’ her face with her hands so that she can’t see me no more. As if that’s gonna stop me from getting my just revenge on her. I pull her hands away from her face and scream at her to look at me….look at the cousin who you always treated like shit! She just rips her hands away from me and covers her face agin’, so I commence to stompin’ her stomach with my feet over and over. She grunts and groans in pain and fear, and when I tire of stompin’, I grab her by the foot and start draggin’ her all over the garage. She's wearin' only a bra on her upper half and her back is gettin' all scraped and bleedin’ as I drag her along. She is screamin’ like a hyena but still offering no resistance at all.
Hallie: It’s horrible; it is the worst nightmare I can imagine. She has a hold of my foot as she drags me, and I’m not even trying to kick away from her. Missy rips off my high heel and starts beating me with it. I cover my head with my hands as well as I can, but she still leaves welts on my forehead, shoulders and stomach. Then, the beating stops for a moment and I dare hope that she is finished. I gaze up at her and see her looking around the garage. In the next moment, her face breaks out in a big smile. She looks at me with growing delight in her eyes and, with dawning horror, I realize the truth: she isn’t nearly finished beating on me, and the plain fact is that she knows she can take her time in devising new tortures because I am giving her no resistance.
Missy: She warn’t fighting back at all, that’s a pure-dee fact. So I use my 125-pound body to lift her 125-pound body into the air. Carryin’ her, I walk her on over to the work bench my Daddy uses to build stuff, and I deposit her flat on her back. She still ain’t fighting back, not kickin’ or nuthin’.
Hallie: This is insane. She dead-lifts me four feet in the air and throws me on the work bench. Her strength terrifies me. I am only now coming to the realization that she can do absolutely anything she wants to me…..especially since I wasn’t fighting back. And why wasn’t I? I’m the same size as her. What’s the matter with me? Why can’t I even try to defend myself?
Missy: A sort of reflective-type look has come over Hallie’s face and it puzzles me, sure as shootin’. But I don’t take the time to worry none about that……instead, I start poundin’ on her exposed belly with both my fists. She uses her hands to cover up her stomach, so I switch up and start beatin’ her head. She is a-squirmin’ left and right, but she can’t get away from me. I am torturin’ the bitch right proper, and the more I’m doin’ it, the more I’m lovin’ it.
Hallie: I can see that the more she’s doing it, the more she’s loving it. She is hurting me so badly that, after awhile, my mind starts divorcing itself from the beating even as my body is suffering from it. In my brain, the pain seems almost unimportant, and it gives me a chance to think. I realize that something has to change or Missy will kill me. With her upbringing, it might just come to that. She isn’t going to change, that was for sure. So, I have to be the one. It is time to fight back. If I go down, I go down…….but at least I won’t go down cowering like a beaten dog.
Missy: I am beatin’ her, laughin’ away to beat the band as I do it. But even as Hallie rolls back and forth in pain on the work bench, I can see the new look that has come to her eyes. I can’t rightly read what that look means, but I suddenly know that something has changed around here. Even as I continue the beat-down, Hallie has started pushing me away with her hands and feet. For the first time, she is fightin’ back. It doesn’t really worry me none; I figure I can overcome anything she throws at me. And, that’s how it goes at first, as I continue to slam my fists down on her and she continues to yell in pain. But, truth be told, it is gettin’ a little harder to deliver my shots. She is fightin’ back more and more.
Hallie: As I use my hands and feet to try to force her off me, I realize that I am making some headway. This serves to make me fight harder, and then one of my flying feet catches her right in the face and pushes her back several steps. She stands looking at me for a moment, and I think I see a frown of disquiet on her face, although I might be mistaken. Maybe she is just taking a breather before she attacks again. Missy’s eyes narrow as she comes toward me again, and I whip off my other high heel shoe and smack her in the face with it as soon as she gets close enough. This time, for the first time…..I know I hurt her. So, I hit her with it again; harder this time. Then again.
Missy: What in tarnation? What in the blue fuck? That goddamn dirty fightin’ bitch hit me with her shoe!
Hallie: As I watch Missy stagger backward, holding her hand to her face, I have time to think..... I am a winner. I’ve always been a winner. For heaven’s sake, Missy is no bigger than I am and she’s not as all-powerful as I originally thought. Why shouldn’t I fight back? Where is it written that I have to lose this fight? Nowhere, that’s where! So what if I’m inexperienced in fighting compared to her? So what? I have beaten her in everything since I’ve known her. Why can’t I beat her at the one thing she figured she could beat me at? Do I have to worry about hurting the self-esteem of someone who’s trying to separate my head from my body?
No way!
I was born to win in life……and I’m going to win now!
Missy: As I hold my face after being whacked by her shoe, I take a peek at her eyes and I don’t like the look in them at all. Not at all. I figure I better put down this rebellion before it takes hold. Hallie has sat up on the work bench, dangling her stocking feet over the side. She seems to be just a-waitin’ for me to come on in. So I do.
Hallie: She still expects nothing from me. She still believes that I can’t stand up to her. So, as Missy walks right in without caution, I draw back both legs and smash them against her chest, sending her flying backward. Her legs go out from under her and she lands on the ass of those overalls she’s wearing. I jump off the bench, meaning to attack her before she can get to her feet. As I approach, Missy’s eyes widen with the sudden (and belated) realization that she has a fight on her hands. I stomp my nylon-clad foot into her face and knock her flat on the garage floor. I stomp on her boobs and hear anguished cries of pain coming from her…..finally.
Missy: What the hell is going on here? Where did all this come from? For God’s sake, I’m the good guy here….not her! Hallie is the one who has tormented me with her superiority our whole lives. I’m supposed to win a fight between us; it’s maybe the only thing I ever can win from her. She can’t take this away from me!
Hallie: I’m still stomping away at her and a strange feeling is coming over me. I realize that this feels good! I’m enjoying this! Fighting is the only thing in life at which I figured Missy was superior to me …..and yet I’m beating her at it! This is wonderful!
Missy: Fighting is the only thing in life at which I figured I was superior to Hallie ……and yet she’s beating me at it! This is terrible!
Hallie: I decide to straddle Missy, sitting down right on her chest and using my fists to beat her face. At first, she’s punching back at me and landing several blows to my face and shoulders that hurt me.
Missy: But the rich bitch refuses to be denied. She brushes off the punches I’m throwin’ and hittin’ me over and over again with her own flyin’ fists. I can’t handle her! I’m a-losin’! This can’t be happenin’!
Hallie: I’m drawing blood! She’s bleeding from her nose, eyebrows and one ear, and her struggles are weakening. The best part is the look in Missy’s eyes; it’s as if she knows that her one chance of defeating me in anything is going down the drain. I feel powerful. I feel triumphant. To be truthful…..I feel sexy. My punching ability is proving to be superior to her own…….and she stops trying. She lays flat on the garage floor and covers her face in meek surrender, sobbing and whimpering.
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“Please, Hallie…..no more.” pleads Missy. “I can’t take no more.”
“Oh, but there just has to be a little more!” purrs Hallie. “ I haven’t slammed the back of your head against the floor yet!”
“No, no….please Hallie!” cries Missy.
“Take that….and that!….and that!” shrieks Hallie, punctuating each word by using both hands to slam Missy’s head down on the concrete floor until the girl’s eyes lose focus and she feels her brain case rattling in her head.
Finally, Hallie stands up and stares at her cousin with disdain. Missy’s arms and legs are shaking spasmodically, but Hallie feels that her “poor relation” can still hear her, so she speaks.
“Know this, Missy.” lectures Hallie. “In the land of winners and losers…….winners always win and losers always lose. And, in case you need to be reminded, I am a winner and you are a loser. I suggest you keep that in mind in the future.”
Brushing herself off and smiling triumphantly down at her cousin, Hallie leaves the garage.
