Page 2 of Wicked Nasty

She hands me the phone, and I immediately burst into tears at the sound of his familiar voice.

"Daddy?" I choke out between sobs.

"Becca! My baby girl!" His voice is filled with longing and regret. "I wish you could be here with us on this trip, but it's all business."

I can hear the sadness in his tone and it only makes me cry harder.

"Next time, I promise you'll be right on this plane with me."

"Daddy, I miss you so much. I want you to come home," I manage to say through my tears.

"Oh my sweet angel," he whispers, his own voice thick with emotion. "I know. I'll try my best to finish up as soon as I can. I miss you more than anything."

But before he can say anything else, there's a commotion on the other end and I hear my mother barking orders.

"Why are we still on the pavement? We should be in the air already! Theodore! Get off the damn phone so we can go!"

My heart sinks at her callousness, but my father sighs in resignation before speaking again.

"Alright, Becs. I gotta get moving. But I promise I'll be there as soon as I can. I love you more than all the stars in the sky."

"And I love you bigger than the universe," I respond, feeling a lump forming in my throat.

Katya takes back the phone and speaks to him briefly before ending the call. She turns to me with tears in her own eyes and whispers, "We're going to be just fine,detka."

After we finish baking, Katya orders pizza for me, something my mother would never allow, and we eat it on the living room floor while watching movies until late into the night. Exhaustion finally takes over and I fall asleep leaning against Katya's side, grateful for her unwavering support and love amidst all the chaos and turmoil.

Katya carries me into my bed, gently tucking me in as she kisses me goodnight. I reach up and pull her back down to me.

“I wish you were my mom, Katya.”

She lets out a deep breath as she lays next to me. “Oh,moya malen'kaya babochka. There are so many nights I wish that too. But we must be happy with what we have, correct?”

“Yes, Katya.”

She snuggles into me as we both giggle. “No attitude, Rebecca. I am grateful that I can be here in this capacity. I would much rather do this than do nothing at all.”

“I’m happy about that, too. Will you stay here tonight? I hate this house. It’s too big.”

“Of course, moya detka. Now lay your head down and sleep.”

A few years later,

The atmosphere in the house shifts as soon as her car pulls into the driveway. The air becomes heavy with tension and anger, making it hard to breathe. She's home again - causing chaos and misery wherever she goes. That woman is like a devil, constantly seeking out ways to make everyone around her miserable.

My own mother. The one who should love and protect me, but treats me like an enemy. To her, I am nothing but a younger version of herself that she feels the need to destroy. Every moment spent with her is filled with constant competition and criticism.

The only time she acknowledges my existence is when she needs to show off her perfect family to others. Just hearing her high-pitched voice makes my blood boil. But I've learned from Katya to bury my feelings deep down inside, showing no emotion towards anyone.

I've become cold and numb, a defense mechanism against the constant hurt and disappointment caused by my mother. But I'd rather be emotionless than continue to feel pain.

Speaking of my mother, I can hear her expensive heels clicking on the marble floors as she storms towards my bedroom. Without knocking, she barges in and throws a bag at me.

"Pack your things. We leave for our trip in an hour."

"No, thanks." I reply calmly.

Her face twists into a sneer. "Excuse me?"

---