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”Lance pointed at the painting on the wall of Mum and the three of us girls. “Did she do that?”“Yeah. That one was soon after Angie was born – obviously. And the one over there is of Dan and Dad back when he was a senior in high school.”“She’s a pretty good painter,” said Lance.“I think so too.”I looked up at the painting of Mum. I could have sworn she was looking more dangerous than normal. I smiled.“So where’s Dan?” asked Lance.“Oh, he found something better to do than look after Angie.”I heard a thudding sound in the hallway as Angie ran to stand in the doorway. She stood and looked at us for a moment and then ran back to the kitchen, yelling “They’re just talking!” as she ran.I looked at Lance and rolled my eyes. “Sorry about that. Angie can be a bit nosy sometimes.”Lance shrugged and put his empty glass down on the coffee table. Then he slid back into the couch, somehow ending up closer to me than when he’d started. I took another sip of lemonade.“So,” said Lance. “How’ve you. He rolled over me and my cigarette fell out of my mouth.He socked me in the face twice yelling "Bastard! FUCKER!" Yelling as many cusswords as he could. I used my knee to push him forward in the ass to his stomach. I got on top of him and grabbed my cigarette. I burned it out and pushed it hard onto the rapist's face. Right on the nose, next to his eye. He screamed and dropped somthing as he ran away, his hands on his face. He ran into a trash can and turned the corner. I saw what he dropped and it was a razor sharp knife. I saved my own ass with a cigarette!"Better run you fuckin' bitch!" I rubbed my face and walked to the trembling girl. She was on the ground backed into a corner. Her shirt ripped pretty badly. Her shirt was ripped down the middle. Her black hair a mess. She was crying. Hard."Hey.. It's okay. He's gone." I told her. I extended my hand to help her up. She took it. Her hand was shaking but she pulled her self up. She moved the hair out of her face and I stared into.
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