Chapter 4 - Fake Mother

Mrs. Apple lay in the middle of the living room floor dying. She panted heavily.

“I have to tell them,” she whispered to herself. “Before I go I have to tell them.”

She paused to breath.

“VICKY! SOOONYA!!”

A few minutes later, both girls came racing down the stairs and into the living room.

“Mother, mother, what is wrong?” Sonya asked.

“We heard the desperation in your voice,” Vicky said, kneeling down next to her mother and taking her hand.

“I have something important to tell you. Something I kept from you your entire life.”

“What is it? Do hurry,” Vicky said.

“I ain't yo momma, foo'. Yo been adopted.”

“WHAT?!” Sonya screamed.

“I have to flee,” Mrs. Apple said, getting off the floor and rushing to the stairs.

Sonya and Vicky watched silently.

“I thought you were dying!” Vicky spluttered.

“Nope,” Mrs. Apple replied, quickly gathering her belongings and storing them in a large suitcase.

“Then why... never mind. Where are you going? And who are our real parents?!” Sonya demanded.

“I'm going to Argentina,” Mrs. Apple replied. “And you're real parents are in... there.”

She dramatically pointed towards the kitchen.

“Please don't go,” Vicky pleaded.

“Sorry, but I must. The lie has gone on for too long. Have fun with your new life,” Mrs. Apple said, and sprinted out of the door.

“And so ends a 12 year long section of our lives,” Sonya said sadly, watching Mrs. Apple run up the street.

Both girls nervously looked at the kitchen. It was ominously quiet.

“They're in there,” Sonya said. Vicky swallowed nervously.

“Yep. They are.”

Silence.

“We should go,” Vicky said.

“Yep.”

They took a step. Then another. Shadows of people from the kitchen shifted slightly.

They gasped, looking at each other. A mutual confidence was formed. “Come on.”

They grabbed each other's hands and ran forward.

“Hello new parents,” Vicky cried.

“HAY THERE, GIRL!” Miss Nana squealed with delight.

Vicky and Sonya stared at each other with huge eyes.

“Hello, daughters,” Mr. Connelly smiled, emerging from the shadows.

Screams in the dark.

“She's not waking up!”

“SLAP HER AGAIN, GIRL! SLAP HER AGAIN!”

SMACK!
“Owe!” Vicky cried angrily. “I'm awake, I'm awake!”

“GOOD! NOW THE REAL PARTY CAN START!” Miss Nana screamed.

“You're not our real parents,” Sonya pleaded. “Please.”

“Sorry,” Mr. Connelly shrugged.

“NO!” Vicky screamed, jumping to her feet and holding on to Sonya for support. “I refuse.” She jabbed a finger at Mr. Connelly. “YOU are my third greatest fear! And YOU,” she turned to the beaming Miss Nana, “are just WEIRD. I owe you for saving me from those weird skeletons, but that does NOT entitle you to a life time of compliments and HAPPINESS.”

Miss Nana's jaw dropped.

“Sonya,” Vicky said. “COME ON. We're going to Argentina.”

She grabbed her sister's hand, and stormed out of the house.