Excerpt: The Wrong One/The Curse of Grungy Gulley/Go Away, Stalker Guy

THE WRONG ONE
BY: KC Sprayberry

CHAPTER 1

I shoved a lawn mower back and forth in front of our rented house. It looked like every other place we'd lived in. At least I think it did. Since I don't remember very much before my tenth birthday, it's hard to tell. It's not like I'm stupid or anything but the family says I'm the wrong one and I've started to believe them.
Taking care of the yard, house, and meals was my job. I was seventeen that much I knew for sure. If I was really part of the family, I'd never figured out. See, I'm only five three two inches tall with very long almost white blonde hair and deep blue eyes. The parents and brothers all have brown hair. Poppa's eyes are green and Momma's brown. No one's ever explained why I'm so different, except to tell me I'm the wrong one.
Sweat poured down my back in spite of the cool air. It was late October, a time of year I'd never enjoyed because it meant I wouldn't have an excuse to spend time outside. As soon as I finished mowing the lawn, raking leaves, and pulling weeds from the supposed flower garden, I had to clean the kitchen and make supper. I only hoped there was enough food to feed not only the family but the uncles. If not, I'd go hungry again. Then there was the punishment I'd suffer because I hadn't done my chore properly.
"Yoo Hoo!" a woman called. "Are you new?"
Fear cramped my muscles. The most ironclad rule I lived by was to never let anyone see me while I worked outside. It was the reason we'd left the last five towns, and some back when I was a little kid, according to Momma. Pushing hair away from my eyes, I looked at where the yell had come from.
A woman hustled across the street, a wide grin on her face. She was bigger than me, but then again, so were most adults and a lot of teens. Before I had a chance to duck into the garage, on the pretense of looking for something, she stopped in front of me.
"My goodness, I didn't realize Jeff and Ann had a daughter." She held out a hand. "I'm Mrs. Anderson. I live over there with my kids. You're just about my Terri's age."
We shook hands as a twelve-year-old galloped across the street. Within seconds, I learned she was Teri and I had to explain I was seventeen.
"You look so young." Mrs. Anderson looked me up and down. "You know, you look like Elyssa Winders."
"Who?"
"That little girl who disappeared from Landry fourteen years ago," Teri said. "A bunch of people were killed and she just walked away from it. Weird, isn't it?"
I wanted to agree but something exploded inside my head and I winced. After making my apologies, and hoping Mrs. Anderson and Teri didn't mention meeting me, I went back to work. Thankfully, no one else came over to meet me but I still had so much to do and soon, there would be more people around as they hurried home for their weekend.
The town was Claxton, what people called the fruitcake capital of the world. It attracted the family because of the reputation. They had a job that didn't require them to go to an office or factory every day. Poppa and the brothers relieved others of their hard-earned possessions. Nothing big. Just small things like electronics, jewelry, or cash they'd left lying around. That no one had caught them always amazed me because they didn't bother to hide their criminal activities.
"Maybe it'll happen soon and I won't have to help them."
My fervent wish had come about a year ago, after I learned I'd have to become more a part of the family. I wasn't sure why Poppa hadn't made me do it sooner, since my two youngest brothers weren't eighteen yet, but it probably had something to do with how bad I was. Maybe they thought the police would catch them if they made me do it sooner. According to the family, I couldn't do anything right. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense.
"At least I don't have to worry about school." I groaned. "Damn. Why did I forget that Language Arts test this morning?
I couldn’t' stop what I was doing. If I did, one of them would punish me. So I pushed the hand mower faster, even though my thighs already ached from working with something no one had taken care of for years before the family took it for me to use. An hour later, I'd finished so I grabbed a rake and made sure the yard looked like Poppa wanted it. Not that he'd thank me but I hated hearing him yelling about how lazy I was, how I never did anything right, and mostly how I was the wrong one.
"Oh, Kim," Mrs. Anderson yelled at the top of her lungs. "My son, Trey, wants to know if you'll go to the dance at the high school next week."
"Sorry." I waved at her and cleaned up the last of the leaves.
Inside, I shook from fear but I couldn't let her see it. If I did, she'd ask questions. Who was afraid of a neighbor offering to let you have fun? Not normal people but I was far from normal.
When I finally made it into the house, the rest of the family got out of bed. I checked the clock and bit back a retort. It was a little after four in the afternoon. Their usual time to rise but I was behind schedule. There was no fresh coffee in the pot. I hurried into the kitchen and made it, hoping against hope that no one would come out of their room until it finished.
While the coffee perked, I took a fast shower and ran to the small storage closet that was my bedroom. A pile of underwear lay on the cot the parents had given me for a bed. I picked up the top pair and almost screamed. It was another thong! Tossing it aside, I grabbed another pair but it was a thong, too. Every piece of underwear in the pile was a thong.
"I hate these," I muttered. "Why can't I have normal underwear? Why do I have to feel like a slut?"
I slipped on one of the thongs, in the least offensive color, pink. It was bright and looked trashy but I didn't have a choice. After pulling on a bra, sweats, and oversized t-shirt, I went back into the kitchen. Poppa set down his coffee cup and frowned at me.
"I heard someone outside," he said.
My heart stopped beating. Not really but I sure wished it had. The expression on his face wasn't disapproval, just acceptance that I'd yet again caused a problem and he'd have to fix it. He slid his belt out of his pants and I backed into a wall. My oldest brother, Joe, grabbed my arm and slung me onto a counter. The belt's leather bit into my skin despite the well-worn covering over my legs. I had to stuff a hand into my mouth so I didn't scream. When he finished spanking me, Poppa put his belt back on.
"Make supper," he ordered.
From the sound of his voice, no one would suspect he'd just whipped me until I wanted to fall to the floor. Instead of giving in to my pain, I gathered what food we had and prepared a casserole. The rest of the brothers, Kevin, Corey, and Rick, lounged around the table. Every time I set something on it, they'd knock it to the floor. It took me almost two hours to get the food served and as I'd suspected, there wasn't enough for me.
It wasn't because I hadn't made enough. As I prepared to take my seat, two men entered the house and knocked me aside. Uncle Rob and Uncle Jon had decided to visit. I should have been happy Grandpa Stinson hadn't come with them but I was starving. Now I couldn't eat until tomorrow.
"Wrong one, bring your uncles a beer," Poppa ordered.
I did, wishing he'd call me by my name more often. I was Kim, I reminded myself. Not Wrong One. Not stupid. I was Kim Stinson, and I couldn't ever forget that.
"I heard you punishing Wrong One," Momma said. "What's she done now?"
"Talked to a neighbor," Kevin said. "It woke us up."
"I thought I heard that nosy bitch," she said. "Well, Wrong One, what did you tell her?"
"Nothing," I said.
"Then why did she think you wanted to go to a dance?"
Joe's voice slammed into my nerves. I edged toward my bedroom and hoped I could make it before they thought up a new punishment. My hand crept behind my back and I pulled the thong out of my crack. The brothers watched with avid interest, which only made heat flame my cheeks.
"Sit on your bed," Poppa ordered. "I'll come later to deal with your disobedience, Wrong One."
Sure I knew what he'd do I sat on my bed and dreaded what would soon come.