It had been a week since Grandma Trisha’s death. The Krimble home was back to its serene state now that Willow was no longer sharing a bathroom with her teenage cousins. Aunt Klisa and her family had flown back to Seattle, shortly after she and Mrs. Krimble settled Grandma Trisha’s estate.
Today was the final day Willow took off from school for mourning. Razzel promised to stop by with tonight’s homework assignments from all of Willow’s classes as she had done for the past several days.
It was 4:15pm when Wyatt answered the door, holding a foot-long submarine sandwich, to find Razzel scoffing at him.
“Are you ever not eating?” asked Razzel, walking into the living room, setting down her backpack, removing her heavy coat.
“Snack-time,” Wyatt defended himself as he took a huge bite from his turkey and swiss hero.
“Let me rephrase … ” said Razzel, “ … Is it ever not ‘snack-time’?”
“You know, Raz,” said Wyatt, inadvertently spitting bits of bread onto Razzel’s shirt, “you can be verbally abusive sometimes. Don’t let my big athletic stature fool you; I have feelings too, you know. You need to soften your tone.”
“What I need is an umbrella,” Razzel snapped back, brushing bits of sandwich off her long sleeve t-shirt. Wyatt suddenly recognized the character on Razzel’s shirt as she continued to scan it for sandwich crumbs.
“Queen Fury?” said Wyatt. “Sweet shirt! Where’d you get it?”
“At the Mall – Crazy Couture.”
“Do they have Warrior Skull shirts?”
“Nah, they only have woman’s clothes, but I saw some cool comic-book T’s in Garment Grabbers. You might find Warrior Skull there.”
“Sweet! Thanks. Go on up; they’re in Willow’s room.” Wyatt made another huge dent in his sandwich. “Chicklets McFarkus! I forgot the peanut butter! Later, Raz.”
As Wyatt sprinted to the kitchen, muttering something about “jalapeno peppers”, Razzel became puzzled. “They’re upstairs?” Did he mean Willow and Mrs. Krimble?
Razzel jogged up the stairs and was about to open the door to Willow’s bedroom when she heard two voices resonating from it. One of them was Willow’s, but the other stopped Razzel dead in her tracks. She stood in the hallway and listened:
“I can’t believe you still have this thing,” said the familiar voice. “Aren’t you a little old to be playing with dollhouses?”
“Haven’t you ever heard of sentimental value?” said Willow.
Razzel was livid. She flung open the door to Willow’s bedroom to find Shayla standing over a Molly Makeover dollhouse on Willow’s dresser.
“How could you, Will! “Razzel sneered. “I thought you were so much smarter than this! You let her walk all over you for years and now, all of a sudden, we're supposed to just forget about everything?"
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"Raz, we - "
"We’re supposed to forget about the insults ... " Razzel continued her rant, " … the backstabbing, the rumor spreading - shall I go on?"
"Will you let me talk?" Willow insisted.
"I can't think of a damn thing you can say that would erase the years of abuse we had to endure from Her Majesty and her royal subjects!"
Shayla tried to speak, but she couldn’t. She wanted to apologize; to tell Razzel how jealous she was of both her and Willow, which caused her to treat them with resentment for the past three years. But how do you reason with someone who is brimming with such anger toward you? She opened her mouth to speak, but Razzel's livid expression forced Shayla to flee Willow's room, ashamed and defeated.
Willow called out to Shayla, but to no avail. She thought about going after her, but decided to confront Razzel.
"There!” said Willow. “Are you happy with yourself?"
"Quite proud, thank you," replied Razzel, folding her arms across her chest.
"You always do that, Raz! You always fly off the handle. She made some mistakes. Neither of us are perfect. She needs us."
"She needs us? For what? To have someone to embarrass in front of the entire school auditorium?”
"That was Snella," replied Willow.
"What difference does it make? If Snella were here, you'd probably give her a hug."
"WHAT!"
"You heard me!" replied Razzel. "Willow Krimble: the girl who wants to fill the world with sunshine, rainbows and puppies. Well, here's a newsflash, Will: Not everyone in this world has good in them. There are lots of bad people out there and I'm not gonna shake their hand because, one day, they decide they’re done knocking me down! You're so freakin' naive sometimes, you know that? You let people step all over you, then you apologize for getting their shoes all dirty. Why don’t you wake up!"
Willow looked at her so-called best friend and her insides seemed to tighten at the sight of her.
"Well, I'm sorry that I don't wanna beat the hell out of everything that crosses my path!” retorted Willow. “I wanna fill the world with puppies? You'd kick one down the stairs if it looked at you the wrong way!"
Razzel took several steps toward Willow until they were face-to-face.
"If someone gets in my way, I move ‘em. You should try it sometime, instead of always making excuses for people."
"Like the way I always make excuses for you?" replied Willow, her tone venomous.
"What's that supposed to mean?" said Razzel, backing up a step.
"For years I've disagreed with the way you do certain things, but I still - "
"Like what!" spat Razzel.
"Hmm, lets see … like always having to have the final word … like never letting anything slide by without making a snide comment … like constantly losing your temper before even knowing all of the facts, or, how about this one: never forgiving someone for their mistakes!"
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"Well … sounds like I've just been a burden to you all these years,” replied Razzel. “I guess you just hung out with me because you felt sorry for me. That's what you do best, isn't it - take pity on others? 'Look at mean ol’ Razzel … I'd better help her manage that anger. I’ll bet she needs me to turn her fwown upside down,’” Razzel mocked in a childish tone and an exaggerated pout.
Willow was furious. For the first time in her life, she wanted to hurt Razzel. Not physically, but there was another way…
"You know, Raz, before Grams died, she mentioned you."
Razzel's fake pout transformed into a curious expression.
"She said that you and I needed one another."
Razzel rolled her eyes. Leave it to Willow to turn an argument into a sentimental moment. Razzel grinned and shook her head, signifying, what she thought to be, the end of their blowout. But then Willow finished her thought …
"Grams was wrong about that; I can’t see any good coming out of having you in my life."
Razzel was wounded; Willow had caught her off guard. For the first time in her life, Razzel Fiora was speechless. No snappy quip, no sarcastic insult; not even a sneering look. She turned around and darted for the door. Just as she was about to leave, she paused and turned to Willow one final time.
“I don’t know why you feel it’s your responsibility to take care of everyone around you,” she said. “At least now … you’ll have one less person to worry about.” Razzel slammed Willow’s door shut as she exited the bedroom.
Willow let out a sigh of deep frustration as she plunked down onto her bed. She grabbed the photo of her father from her nightstand. Resting her head against her pillow, she held the framed photo in front her, staring at it as she allowed a distant memory to drift over her…
Next Chapter
Today was the final day Willow took off from school for mourning. Razzel promised to stop by with tonight’s homework assignments from all of Willow’s classes as she had done for the past several days.
It was 4:15pm when Wyatt answered the door, holding a foot-long submarine sandwich, to find Razzel scoffing at him.
“Are you ever not eating?” asked Razzel, walking into the living room, setting down her backpack, removing her heavy coat.
“Snack-time,” Wyatt defended himself as he took a huge bite from his turkey and swiss hero.
“Let me rephrase … ” said Razzel, “ … Is it ever not ‘snack-time’?”
“You know, Raz,” said Wyatt, inadvertently spitting bits of bread onto Razzel’s shirt, “you can be verbally abusive sometimes. Don’t let my big athletic stature fool you; I have feelings too, you know. You need to soften your tone.”
“What I need is an umbrella,” Razzel snapped back, brushing bits of sandwich off her long sleeve t-shirt. Wyatt suddenly recognized the character on Razzel’s shirt as she continued to scan it for sandwich crumbs.
“Queen Fury?” said Wyatt. “Sweet shirt! Where’d you get it?”
“At the Mall – Crazy Couture.”
“Do they have Warrior Skull shirts?”
“Nah, they only have woman’s clothes, but I saw some cool comic-book T’s in Garment Grabbers. You might find Warrior Skull there.”
“Sweet! Thanks. Go on up; they’re in Willow’s room.” Wyatt made another huge dent in his sandwich. “Chicklets McFarkus! I forgot the peanut butter! Later, Raz.”
As Wyatt sprinted to the kitchen, muttering something about “jalapeno peppers”, Razzel became puzzled. “They’re upstairs?” Did he mean Willow and Mrs. Krimble?
Razzel jogged up the stairs and was about to open the door to Willow’s bedroom when she heard two voices resonating from it. One of them was Willow’s, but the other stopped Razzel dead in her tracks. She stood in the hallway and listened:
“I can’t believe you still have this thing,” said the familiar voice. “Aren’t you a little old to be playing with dollhouses?”
“Haven’t you ever heard of sentimental value?” said Willow.
Razzel was livid. She flung open the door to Willow’s bedroom to find Shayla standing over a Molly Makeover dollhouse on Willow’s dresser.
“How could you, Will! “Razzel sneered. “I thought you were so much smarter than this! You let her walk all over you for years and now, all of a sudden, we're supposed to just forget about everything?"
___________________________________
Page 86
"Raz, we - "
"We’re supposed to forget about the insults ... " Razzel continued her rant, " … the backstabbing, the rumor spreading - shall I go on?"
"Will you let me talk?" Willow insisted.
"I can't think of a damn thing you can say that would erase the years of abuse we had to endure from Her Majesty and her royal subjects!"
Shayla tried to speak, but she couldn’t. She wanted to apologize; to tell Razzel how jealous she was of both her and Willow, which caused her to treat them with resentment for the past three years. But how do you reason with someone who is brimming with such anger toward you? She opened her mouth to speak, but Razzel's livid expression forced Shayla to flee Willow's room, ashamed and defeated.
Willow called out to Shayla, but to no avail. She thought about going after her, but decided to confront Razzel.
"There!” said Willow. “Are you happy with yourself?"
"Quite proud, thank you," replied Razzel, folding her arms across her chest.
"You always do that, Raz! You always fly off the handle. She made some mistakes. Neither of us are perfect. She needs us."
"She needs us? For what? To have someone to embarrass in front of the entire school auditorium?”
"That was Snella," replied Willow.
"What difference does it make? If Snella were here, you'd probably give her a hug."
"WHAT!"
"You heard me!" replied Razzel. "Willow Krimble: the girl who wants to fill the world with sunshine, rainbows and puppies. Well, here's a newsflash, Will: Not everyone in this world has good in them. There are lots of bad people out there and I'm not gonna shake their hand because, one day, they decide they’re done knocking me down! You're so freakin' naive sometimes, you know that? You let people step all over you, then you apologize for getting their shoes all dirty. Why don’t you wake up!"
Willow looked at her so-called best friend and her insides seemed to tighten at the sight of her.
"Well, I'm sorry that I don't wanna beat the hell out of everything that crosses my path!” retorted Willow. “I wanna fill the world with puppies? You'd kick one down the stairs if it looked at you the wrong way!"
Razzel took several steps toward Willow until they were face-to-face.
"If someone gets in my way, I move ‘em. You should try it sometime, instead of always making excuses for people."
"Like the way I always make excuses for you?" replied Willow, her tone venomous.
"What's that supposed to mean?" said Razzel, backing up a step.
"For years I've disagreed with the way you do certain things, but I still - "
"Like what!" spat Razzel.
"Hmm, lets see … like always having to have the final word … like never letting anything slide by without making a snide comment … like constantly losing your temper before even knowing all of the facts, or, how about this one: never forgiving someone for their mistakes!"
___________________________________
Page 87
"Well … sounds like I've just been a burden to you all these years,” replied Razzel. “I guess you just hung out with me because you felt sorry for me. That's what you do best, isn't it - take pity on others? 'Look at mean ol’ Razzel … I'd better help her manage that anger. I’ll bet she needs me to turn her fwown upside down,’” Razzel mocked in a childish tone and an exaggerated pout.
Willow was furious. For the first time in her life, she wanted to hurt Razzel. Not physically, but there was another way…
"You know, Raz, before Grams died, she mentioned you."
Razzel's fake pout transformed into a curious expression.
"She said that you and I needed one another."
Razzel rolled her eyes. Leave it to Willow to turn an argument into a sentimental moment. Razzel grinned and shook her head, signifying, what she thought to be, the end of their blowout. But then Willow finished her thought …
"Grams was wrong about that; I can’t see any good coming out of having you in my life."
Razzel was wounded; Willow had caught her off guard. For the first time in her life, Razzel Fiora was speechless. No snappy quip, no sarcastic insult; not even a sneering look. She turned around and darted for the door. Just as she was about to leave, she paused and turned to Willow one final time.
“I don’t know why you feel it’s your responsibility to take care of everyone around you,” she said. “At least now … you’ll have one less person to worry about.” Razzel slammed Willow’s door shut as she exited the bedroom.
Willow let out a sigh of deep frustration as she plunked down onto her bed. She grabbed the photo of her father from her nightstand. Resting her head against her pillow, she held the framed photo in front her, staring at it as she allowed a distant memory to drift over her…
Next Chapter