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to death. I
just about called the cops."
    I could feel tears starting to well again, so instead
of looking at my mom I continued to pet Duchess. She arched her
back and rubbed against my hand, purring happily.
    "Salem, are you going to answer me?"
    Mom was just a foot away from me, but I didn't dare
look up at her. I knew the tears would come then and I wasn't
certain I would be able to stop them. But my mom had an emo radar.
She knew when I was feeling down or angry or anything. It was
probably because we were a lot alike. And she'd also been a
rebellious teenage. So she knew all the tricks of the trade. By
some of her stories, I believed she invented some of those
tricks.
    She put her hand on my bent head. "Are you all right,
baby?"
    I shook my head, and moved into the safety and
sanctity of her arms. She was little like me, no more than five
feet three, but I always felt safe when she hugged me. I buried my
face into her neck, inhaling her familiar mango scent—it was her
shampoo—and then let the tears fall.
    She rubbed a hand up and down my back which always
soothed me. "What happened, love? Did you and Chloe have a
fight?"
    Too choked up with tears, I couldn't speak. I just
shook my head.
    "Did someone hurt you? You can tell me." I could hear
the quiver in her voice. "Don't be afraid to tell me, whatever it
is. I'm won't get mad, I promise."
    My mom was fierce that way.
    When I'd been in fourth grade, two older boys had
been picking on me, calling me names, shoving me around at recess.
At first I didn't tell my mom, thinking I could handle it or
thinking it would only get worse if I did. After three months of
it, I had to tell her, I couldn't keep it in any longer. She'd
known something was up since I would often be in my room crying
after school or I'd fake being ill so I didn't have to go to
school.
    When I told her, she got this look on her face, the
kind of look that told me she'd rip someone a new ass if she could.
She marched down to the school, talked to the principal, and
demanded the phone numbers of the two boys. At first they wouldn't
give them to her, but she was persistent and maybe a bit
aggressive. I remember one teacher referring to her as a
pitbull.
    When she got the numbers she called the boys' parents
and proceeded to rip them a new ass too. Needless to say it didn't
take long for that shit to roll down hill and the boys stopped
bugging me. I think everyone at school, especially the principal
and the teachers, were scared of my mom after that. Or at least
they looked at her with a mix of respect and fear.
    Because of that, I was hesitant to tell her what
happened. I knew what she'd do. She wouldn't let this just go away.
She wouldn't let me brush it under the bed to be forgotten. No,
she'd go after Thane and Malice with a vengeance. Not only because
they hurt me, or at least I think they did, but because she'd been
in a band, she toured with other rockers and she despised those who
preyed on the obsessions and fantasies of groupies.
    After one final hiccup, I lifted my head intent on
telling her everything, or at least the parts I was certain of,
when something inside me broke.
    Pain I'd never experienced before ripped through me.
As if something, something large was trying to punch and kick its
way out of my stomach. Gasping, I doubled over unable to stay
upright.
    "Salem!" My mom grabbed my arm trying to keep me from
falling on my face.
    I couldn't get my breath to tell her I was in pain,
that something was wrong. Opening and closing my mouth like a
guppy, I dug my fingers into her arms holding on for dear life. The
abyss was coming for me. And it was dark and scary and full of
agony and torture. I didn't want to fall down into it. I knew I'd
lose my mind if I did.
    Another wave of searing pain ripped through me. I
screamed. My body thrashed and writhed under the grip of the dark
agony. Spots formed in my vision and the room was spinning making
me dizzy. I was going to vomit. Maybe I could purge