Chapter Text
There's a new girl next door. There's a need girl in school. There's a new girl in church. There's a new girl in town. There's a new girl. A new girl. The whole town knows of her, but no one knows her. She's not Opal, She's "The New Girl", she's "that kid", she's "who?", she's nobody important...
"But nobody's not important! The Bible says we're all equal in the eyes of god!" Orel argued innocently, clutching his pocket Bible with a firm grip. Clay scoffed, not even caring to look at his son. A bottle of whiskey cradled between his thighs and an unfinished cup on his side table. He carefully polished and cleaned his lucky gun, scraping the dried crimson reminents of there camping trip from its surface.
"Yes, in gods eyes we're all equal but you see Orel, some of us are more equal than others" Clay explained, pausing his cleaning to indulge himself in the alcohol that'd ruined whatever good he had left in him.
Orel sighed distastefully, pivoting to the door and shuffling out, closing the door behind him. Once the reassuring click of the door was heard he folded in on himself, back leaned against the door and head rested on his knees. He didn't let himself stay down for long, pushing himself up and pulling himself together. A soft "Pull yourself together" flying from his lips. He stepped to the kitchen, his mother obsessively cleaning the pipes beneath the sink, growling curses and seemingly arguing with someone in her own head
"Mom?" Orel said hesitantly, standing at a distance from her. His attempts to grab her attention was met with a brisk hum of acknowledgement and silence, "There's a new girl next door, I want to meet her but I also want to get her a welcome gift! I'm thinking a cross, could I-"
Bloberta growled in frustration, throwing a bottle of sanitizer across the counter. She was annoyed and Orel knew better than to ask about it. Bloberta then began ranting on and on, "Oh yeah of course! That's how it all starts, go get her that cross, she'll love that. She's gonna love you SO much. She'll love you so much she'll lie, she'll tell you "♡Oh I love you♡", "♡I wanna take care of you", "♡I want to be inside you♡" She'll make you think she's fixing you! She'll make you thing you need to be fixed! But she's not fixing you, no, no, no, she's BREAKING YOU she's slowly tearing you down, she's ruining the little bit if good hidden underneath that black, rotten, HATEFUL heart. AND THEN she'll play victim! "I did it because you don't love me!", "I'm soo saaaddd", "I want someone who'll care for me, who can pleasure me!" She'll go around the town trying to get somebody ANYBODY to love her, like the whore she is! And NOBODY, not even the most disgusting, depraved man won't fuck her because she's UNLOVEABLE . You know why?? Because she's a prostitute a SLUT, AND NO ONE WILL EVER LOVE HER-"
Bloberta stopped, erasing her face into a blank slate, turning her head to the Orels general vicinity. She stood up and pittered out of the room without a word, leaving Orel alone to process. He furrowed his eyebrows slightly, staring at the back of his moms head turn the corner. He peered over to the kitchen table, his moms purse placed upon it perfectly. Orel stepped up to the table, taking a twenty dollar bill from her purse. "She said to go ahead" He rationalized, stepping to the door and placing his hand on the doorknob.
"Mom? Dad? I'm going out for a while"
No response.
As expected.
Orel stepped out of the house, Block and Shapey playing tag to the side. "Bye bye guys! I'm going to the shops!" The pair smiled and waved, returning to there game. Orel limped to the store, the sour bitter winds of the winter causing his leg pain to flare, the old pep in his step long forgotten and gone. It died when Orel did. He traced his hand across the glass of the storefronts, searching for the perfect gift. He needed to be neighborly! If they were anything like Christina's family, they may not around long enough. Something caught his eye, a cross, what he was looking for, it was beautiful! A dark oak with opal gemstones, it's perfect! At least he hopes so. He didn't even continue browsing he knew from the moment he saw it he needed to get it.
She was sitting inside by the tallest window, staring, staring out at houses, eyes unfocused and day-dreamy. Orel knew that expression a little to well. He walked onto there lawn, seeing if she'd notice him. She didn't. Orel looked to his home, Block was outside, eating mud and playing with twigs and Shapey looked to be inside. He looked back only to realize the new girl was gone from the window. He ran up to all the other windows peering through to see if he could see her, but he couldn't. So, logically, Orel decided to walk to the door, knocking gently to see if somebody would awnser. He waited, he heard the voice of a gruff old man, the response of a light middle aged man, perhaps a tad younger than his dad, he heard the orders of a gravely woman's voice, then he heard silence. Light pittery footsteps similar to a ducks. He heard the click of the door, then the door creaking, and right in front of him was the new girl. The first thing he noticed about her was her strange appearance and gaunt frame. She resembled a sad deflated balloon, her bones poking beneath her skin like a vacuum sealed figurine.
"Hiya Neighbor! I'm Orel! I live next door!" Orel introduced, putting his hand out for a handshake. Opal stares at his outstretched arm unsure of what to do. She cautiously raised her hand to, letting Orel shake her hand.
"Hello?"
Orel ignored the odd response, grinning and rocking on his heels, "Hello Neighbor! I got you a gift, it's great to meet you!" He presented the jewelry box to her. The new girl stared at the gift as if it was made of human skin, confused. She looked at him bewildered, staring into his eyes for a moment. She reached out, clasping the small gift box in her thin boney hands. She stared at the box, then back up to him.
"Uhm, you can open it!" He assured, "What is your name?" Opal stared at him, turning the box over multiple times, inspecting every inch of the box. She turned it back upright, slowly cracking it open. She stared at the gorgeous cross, she did know what to do with that, if her family talked to her, Christianity was probably the reason. She slipped it on, twiddling the small wooden cross between her fingers.
"Yay" She gushed quietly, "Thank you" Orel smiled, happy she'd liked it.
"Isn't it cool! We could play and pray together! I'll show you my favorite Bible quotes!" Orel suggested, showing her the small pocket Bible he always kept in his pocket, "Sorry, you never awnserd my question, what's your name?"
She hesitated, looking behind her into her home as if making sure nobody was watching, she turned back to Orel. She pointed at the stones on the new cross she'd just been gifted.
"Opal?"
"Opal"
"Can we please invite them over, dad! We have to be neighborly remember?!" Orel pleaded, helping his mother sweep the floor.
"Stop that Orel, cleanings a woman's job" Clay growled, laying on the couch with a large bottle pocket scotch half empty and hugged in his arms. Bloberta took the broom and dustpan from Orel ontinuing her never ending cycle of cleaning. Orel sighed, handing it over and walking to his dad, trying to get him to awnser him.
"She's really nice! And there Christians, I checked this time!" Orel begged, pounting to the house next door through the window. Clay rolled his eyes, forcefully throwing his glass down on the table. He rolled over to his side, ignoring Orel. He whined lightly, moving to his mom, "Mom! We have to meet them!"
"If you want to force some random people into our house so bad you can go over there yourself, see how they like it. Bring Shapey with you while you're at it, leave me and your father out of this" Bloberta scolded, griping blocks arm tightly and shoving him into Orel, causing Block to scream and yell.
"That's Block mom" Orel replied, disappointed his mother still couldn't tell the difference between them. It never suprised him when his Dad couldn't remember, he doesnt expect much from him, his moms a different story. She doesn't pay attention sure but she birthed him!.
"Yeah, take him too" She walked out of the kitchen, grabbing her cleaning bottles and moving to clean somewhere else.
Orel sighed, rolling his eyes lightly. He stepped out of the house, Opal stood in front of the home, watching Shapey run circles around her. She tilted her head as she saw Orel.
"So?.."
Orel shook his head, "No, they dont want to but I could go over to your home. But I have to bring my brothers, is that good?" Opal thought about it, she nodded, even if she seemed anxious at the idea of letting him in, of letting him see.
"We can go"
Opal took the few steps to the house, moving up her front steps. She slowly turned the doorknob, creaking the door to stare at her grandfather, long asleep with the TV blaring sound. She stepped in, Orel and his siblings filing in, for once silently. Of course the silence didn't last, Shapey started acting up because of the new overstimulating environment, swiftly following with Block. The old man stirred, swatting at the air, "Claire?! Is that you- Stay quiet god damn it! I'm trying to sleep here" He growled, his voice gruff sounding yet somehow so light, "Hey. You arnt claire- who are you !? Why are there so many of you!!" Opal squeaked, peering behind her then back at him again.
"It's freinds"
"Mm, alright, get, get. Grab my cigarettes while you're at it" He ordered, fanning her away. Opal nodded, turning to look at the pack of cigarettes balanced on the counter. Those fucking cigarettes, they ruined him. It's all he cares about and it's killing him from the inside out, "And don't even think about hiding them, I've told you a million times to-" He paused to hack out his lungs out, "to stop hiding them!" Opal took a deep breath, staring at the cigarettes. She doesnt want to, she feels like she's enabling the man. Before she even stepped towards it, Orel grabbed the pack, offering it over to the old man, "Here you go sir!"
He took them, nodding and searching for his lighter, "You're a good one hm, I like ya son. Claire!! Keep this one 'round" Opal didn't respond, staring at her feet.
"Dinner?"
The grandpa grunted, ignoring her in favor of listening to the TV, "Oh! And shut your freinds up, there disturbing my time!"
"Sorry sir! Those or my brothers! They won't bother you!" Orel apologized, looking over at his siblings, normally he'd push them out of the home but he knows now that they don't care about them, nobody does. If Orel can't be happy and loved, then he's going to make sure someone else is. Of course, Orels still orel, he's going to mess it up. He shoved the two in the closet next to him.
Opel looked at Orel, anxiously moving up the stairs. Her movements inconsistant and shaky, like a kid-made stop-motion film. She gently pushed a door open, catching a glimpse of her father in the middle of the room. She stared at Orel, every glance she gave him was a non-verbal apology.
"Claire? Oh, good, good- oh you have friends! Good, I'll be honest here, I didn't think you'd have freinds, and it's a boy too, I mean, have you seen yourself in a while? Really glad I don't have your ankles you know. Great great, what are you here for? No wait, don't awnser that, Ooo. I look good in this, Mhn, beautiful. Anyways, man just look at me! It's such a shame you didn't inherit my genes, you'd be so pretty! But you're not. Oh such a shame, such a shame, I mean, just look at me! I'm gorgeous, look at my-.. my long luscious hair, and my silky.. smooth... wrinkle free skin...." He finally fell silent for once, he grabbed the mirror covering his face, considering moving it, but he didnt, "God... I was beautiful once... young and pretty... I.. I hate myself so much"
"Oh... uh..." Opal stared at the floor.
"Well that doesn't matter, I'm prettier then this entire town which isn't hard to do, so-"
"Are we having dinner?.."
"How would I know? Ask your mom. Anyways, do you see how pretty I am? Goodnes-"
Opal slammed the door shut, looking Orel in the eyes while her face sagged, she looked horrified. For what? He didn't know, "We're not having dinner. I'll just get something from the kitchen. Go upstairs"
"Oh gee, okay Opal!" Orel replied, heading upstairs.
The only upstairs was the Attic, bare, dusty, a small bed and circle windows, support beams taking up space. A sad bedroom, a sad little bedroom for a sad little girl. Opal sat in the far corner of the room, Orel besides her sitting on one of the support beams, both gnawing on a breakfast bar Opal had found hiding behind a kitchen cabinet.
She wordlessly chewed on the bar, ignoring how rock hard it was. Orel tried to bite into it but gave up, in favor talking with her.
"Hey Opal? Why do you sleep up here? All the homes are the same, so I know there's space down there!" Orel asked, kicking his legs to the beat of the leaky ceiling.
"Because. They don't want to see me." She murmerd, flicking the brick stiff gronala bar. Orels eyebrows furrowed in empathy.
"Oh. Do you want them to see you?" Orel asked carefully, staring out of the circular window, observing the neighborhood at a new angle. Opal looked up at him, thinking about what he said.
"Yeah. I really want them to"
"Oh"
Orel sighed, taking a bite of the granola bar and instantly regretted it, "Ow- Uhm. I know it's not much, and it won't fix anything but-"
"I see you Opal"