Meg traced the lines on the ceiling again, wondering what she had done to deserve being abandoned. It seemed both of her parents made a habit of leaving her in hostile conditions. The first was a facility in the middle of nowhere with friendly people and this one was in civilization, but under the eye of a maid that was half a bubble away from earning her stormtrooper merit badge. The nerve of that woman, she probably had the room bugged too.
"How could this POSSIBLY get ANY worse?" she asked and was glad that Marie didn't swing the door open on queue and start going through a list. Just to fix her, Meg locked the door and wedged a chair firmly under the latch.
A rhythmic tapping against the window caught her attention and she rolled her eyes when she realized that God or Slayer or whatever not-so-benevolent power that liked to screw with her had answered. He or she or it had a sick sense of humor and she sat up to watch the soft white flakes float into the window and melt.
"Oh, that's just wonderful. JUST FUCKING WONDERFUL. What corporate asshole thought of that one?"
It was snowing, truly snowing in New Paris.
The profanity made her feel mildly better, especially considering it made Marie recoil but it wasn't enough to salvage her mood. Rolling her eyes, she walked over to lean on the windowsill and watched as her disbelief turned into disgust. She had been born here and even though she mostly grew up in Mort Central, snowfall seemed terribly alien. All of her childhood memories were of warm sunny days where she played on the patio and only saw snow on the TV. Old badgerhead must have decided it would put people in the mood and ordered one of his some super secret and over-funded Karma departments to make it happen. She wondered if they could actually do that and dismissed it.
"I wished I never saw snow again," she said and walked back over to sit on her bed. Her foot touched the wrapping paper and she started to pull out the present, but a tapping at the door stopped her. Carefully pushing the ribbon out of sight, she got up and removed the chair from beneath the latch. It was best not to tip her hand to the miserable wench until she had to.
"Yes?" she asked, going for a sugar-sweet voice and failing miserably. Her malice was coming through and there wasn't anything she could do about it.
"Miss, your Mother would like to speak with you. In her study."
For a brief instant, Meg hoped against hope that this meant her Mother had actually made it home, but she realized the truth immediately. Thanks to Marie's relentless surveillance, Meg had gotten a strict punishment than normal for an "indiscretion" (calling one of her Mother's friend's sons an inbred needledick) and that meant that the phone was removed from her room. Her Mother's study was simply the closest phone and it was halfway across the house. Oh joy, she thought as she unlocked the door and fell in behind the maid.
The study was an elegant room that had exclusively been her Father's territory back before he decided he had enough crap and relocated to Mort. The dark rosewood paneling and deep green carpet lent an air of authority that reminded her of him, but it was the elegantly framed prints of alien worlds that symbolized him more. Each was some sort of classified resource world and showed exotic fauna and life that the normal person would never see. It had taken someone with his high SCL rating and connections to get them and each one was beautifully framed, dominating the room. She really liked the one with all the big plants and trees, although it's name on the plaque was simply "D-Notice #4." That had to be a joke because it fit her Father's sense of humor perfectly.
Meg always thought that the pictures were a veiled insult to her Mother, who with her lower SCL ranking in the Human Resources Division simply didn't have the same opportunities to gather awards and attention. Her parents were so fiercely competitive that Meg was surprised they could even stay together long enough to have a kid. It probably happened by accident when they were fighting to see who got to be on top.
"No wonder the marriage disintegrated," she thought to herself.
It surprised her that the prints were still hanging, but whether they remained as trophies of war or as permanent compliments to the room she couldn't tell. They had been here as long as she could remember and maybe they had simply fallen under her Mother's radar. With a shrug, she made her way past the rows of bookshelves and glass display cases containing artifacts to the large imported blood oak desk in the corner where the phone was.
The ornate desk was oddly out of place here and represented the only "Motherly" thing in this sea of her Father's museum of exploits. In color and size, it fit in correctly but the design and era was all off. Meg cursed under her breath when she realized that she was about to critique it, just like the golden kids she had been introduced to.
"Damn it, "she thought under her breath "Those creeps are rubbing off on me."
She gingerly picked up the receiver and hit the #1 key next to the flashing light. Bracing for a lecture, she tucked her chin and pulled up her softest voice. She wasn't aware of how much she really missed her Mother until she heard the voice on the other end.
"Hello?" she asked, afraid of how badly Marie could have twisted things out of proportion.
"Megan? Hello honey!" The voice was jubilant and happy on the other end and Meg felt tears welling up behind her eyes. She missed her more than ever in the current situation and hoped she didn't revert to a lonely five-year old again.
"Mom! When are you coming home?" she blurted and bit her lip. So much for avoiding that impression of the 5-year-old.
"Soon honey," her Mom said. "It looks like I might be able to get things wrapped up a bit more quickly than I expected and I should be there before SLA-mas is over."
"Mom, I miss you," Meg said, fighting the tears out of her voice. She wished they were together now and it occurred that her Mother should have taken her on the trip. Maybe she'd be home soon?
"I miss you too. Look honey, I have to go but I want you to behave around Marie ok? She's just trying to do her job and doesn't deserve abuse."
"But Mom-" she started, but the voice on the other end was insistent.
"No 'but Mom's, okay? We'll talk about what happened earlier once I'm there."
As usual, her Mother wasn't going to listen to any explanation and Meg knew enough to hold her tongue. Besides, the lecture was continuing and caught a sudden harder shift in the voice as the background noise died out. Great, now she's away from everyone and can let it all out, Meg thought. She must really be pissed.
"You can't just go yelling at people and using profanity. That's just not acceptable in today's society or MY house young lady!"
Any semblance of holiday cheer was gone from her Mother's voice as she cranked up the momentum. If Meg couldn't have see Marie in the distance occupied with dusting the dining room, she would have sworn that it was her on the phone instead. No, she thought - they're just too damn much alike and that's why Mom hired her.
"I will not have MY daughter cursing like an uncouth Frother whose system is glutted with a poor selection of recreational pharmaceuticals! I WILL NOT STAND FOR IT!"
Any humor Meg might have had at the last comment was drained by the ferocity of her mother's temper and her voice, which had risen to a dull yell. The edge on the words cut deeply and tears of a different sort began flowing warmly down her cheeks. She bit her lip to stifle the sobs before they started and gripped the phone with both hands.
"Are you crying? ARE YOU CRYING YOUNG LADY?" her Mother's voice taunted. "ANSWER ME!"
"No, No Ma'am," Meg sputtered, knowing it was obvious that she was. She couldn't help herself and wondered why she ever wanted to come back to New Paris in the first place.
"Yes you are! I can hear you! Don't you DARE lie to me!" There was the sound of the phone switching ears and her Mother came back on a second later. "How does it feel to be yelled at? Not very good, is it?"
Meg was sobbing uncontrollably now and almost dropped the phone from her trembling hands. What had started this? It was only a few words and Marie had deserved it.
"Why are you doing this?" she bawled, her composure completely shot. The room with its beautiful prints became foggy as the tears flooded her vision
"Because you're naughty and naughty girls deserve it."
"W-what?" she asked, the sobbing dying in her throat so quickly that it choked her. She couldn't have heard that right, but the goosebumps running down her spine told her otherwise. The warm tears on her face and neck had frozen in place, stinging her with cold.
"You heard me, you little bitch," the voice continued, picking up a deep bass tone and changing into something else's. The sounds coming through the receiver were from her nightmares and she was pinned to the spot, unable to speak or move. She tried to speak but her words came out as a croak from deep in her throat. A cackle of laughter rattled through the earpiece like breaking glass.
"I know you've been Naughty," the man's deep, happy voice said. "And I'm coming for you, you little bitch!"
The phone tumbled from her hands and bounced along the carpet at her feet, spewing a sound like jingling sleigh bells across the carpet. Meg reeled backwards into a bookshelf, sending a stack of encyclopedias tumbling onto her shoulders and then bolted out the door with a shriek.
"I missed you last year, but I'm get you this time! HO! HO! HO! I'm coming for YOU bitch!"
Her heart pounded like thunder in her ears drowning out her steps, but she could still hear every word echoing down the hall after her.
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