Hi, my name is Joni. My husband and two kids have lived in a trailer park near the intersection of Hwy 61 and Hwy 49 in Clarksdale, Ms. for a little over six months. It’s not by choice, but the economy has dictated that it be by necessity. My husband, Joe, lost his job working as an electrician in a Louisiana oil refinery about a year ago, and we have moved to find work ever since. He is now doing oil changes and selling tires at the local Wal-Mart. I work as a waitress at a local truck stop. We hope to save enough to afford a small house soon, though. I hate living in such close quarters with some of these people.
I try to keep myself in pretty good shape. Joe says I still have the sexy body he fell in love with when we met at the exotic club I worked at as a dancer. I gave up dancing when I became pregnant with our first child, and I never missed it. I love to jog after the kids go to school, but it’s difficult on the open highways here in rural Mississippi. The local governments don’t much care if there are jogging or bike paths for the citizens. So I make good use of the nearest park. At 5’2” and 120 lbs, I like to think I’m still in good shape. Due to the abundance of other bleach-bottle blondes in the trailer park, I have decided to let my hair go back to its natural strawberry color. I don’t want to be confused with any of the sluts in here when the sheriff’s department makes its weekend sweeps.
I still consider myself to be fairly young. I’m 35 and like I said, I have two children… a ten-year-old son and a seven-year-old daughter. They actually like living in the trailer park. There is no shortage of playmates for them. The other children are great! It’s their parents…and older siblings…who are the problem.
Our biggest problem is the eighteen-year-old pill head that lives in the next trailer. She hasn’t graduated to meth, yet. So she still has her looks. And she’s gorgeous. Kelly is about 5’6” and weighs around 120 lbs, too. She has kinky dishwater blonde hair that usually stays wild. She has the kind of naturally firm body that she would keep the rest of her life even without ever stepping foot in a gym. Her playful blue eyes seem like they always have a youthful glow…unless chemicals addle them. Then they are glassy. Also, her chemicals of choice make her vicious. Now don’t get me wrong, she is a little bitch even without the pills, but she is a vicious bitch when she’s on them. Kelly has been in several fights with other women in the trailer park in the six months we’ve lived here. She has been arrested a few times for assault and disorderly conduct and jail has made her even worse. So far, I have avoided confrontation with Kelly, but my luck is about to change.
One bright Saturday morning in early autumn, Joe was outside washing his truck. I was sitting on the porch watching our kids as they played with the others in a small county park next door. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kelly trying to find things to occupy her time near Joe’s truck. I knew what she was up to, and so did Joe. I could tell he was getting uncomfortable. I couldn’t tell if Kelly could see me, or not, from her vantage point. But she finally made her move. She was wearing a tight white tanktop and very short blue jean shorts. She was barefoot, like she normally is around the trailer park. One thing I was certain of, though, is she wasn’t high. If she had been, she wouldn’t have waited to make her move.
Joe was starting to empty his wash bucket as Kelly walked up to him. In a playful voice, she asked if she could get a drink of water from our hose. She made a big deal about how “hot it is.”
Joe reluctantly agreed…if it would get her to leave him alone. She picks up the hose, and just as I knew she would, she “accidentally” sprayed her white tanktop with it. Now I know she isn’t wearing a bra…and so does Joe. Now Kelly has nice firm boobs…just the kind poor Joe likes. Just like any other red-blooded man, Joe stares at Kelly’s wet top, but to his credit, he tries to be discreet. But Kelly doesn’t like discretion. Every time he turns his head, she follows him.
I finally decide to end poor Joe’s misery, so I get up and walk into the driveway. Joe looks at me with embarrassment. Kelly looks at me with contempt. She says, “Oh, hi! I was just about to ask your husband to come over and fuck me since Mama is gone for the day….”
If Kelly had pulled out a gun and shot me in the stomach, I wouldn’t have been more shocked by her boldness. All I can do in reply is stammer, “Wha…wha….what?”
“You heard me. I want to fuck your husband. I think he’s hot.”
Still shocked, I say, “I think it’s time for you to leave Kelly.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I think he wants to fuck me too. Maybe you should leave.”
“Are you insane?” I ask her, my anger starting to grow.
“Down at the clinic they say I probably am….a little. But right now, I’m either going to fuck your husband…or fuck you. I’m horny. Your choice, cunt.”
Now I’m absolutely stunned by her audacity. “Get the fuck off my property, you little slut!” I scream at her. But she giggles and stays put.
“Make me leave. I don’t think you can. You have walked around her like an uppity bitch since you’ve moved it. That’s exactly what my Mama calls you, ‘an uppity bitch.’ Now make me leave, you uppity cunt.” She says with an evil look on her race.
“Now girls,” Joe begins, but I interrupt him.
“No, Joe. If she wants a fight, I’ll give her one.”
“Joni, that’s not a good idea.”
“Someone has to teach this little whore some manners.”
“Joni, let’s go inside.”
“That’s a good idea, Joe. Go inside. I’ll take care of the trash out here.”
Kelly looks at me with the playful look still in her eye and says, “I’ll stuff you in that trash can for that, bitch.”
“Go inside, Joe.”
Joe sighs in exasperation and goes inside. But I know he walked over to the window so he could watch.
Since she is barefooted, I remove my flip-flops. I’m now wearing nothing but a black “AC/DC” t-shirt and blue jean shorts. I look at Kelly, my anger now at a boiling point, and I say, “Now I’m gonna give you the beating your mamma should have given you a long time ago, me.” My Cajun ancestry really comes out when I’m angry.
“Don’t talk about my mamma, you fucking cunt!”
Then I slap her hard across the face.
I have been in several fights over the years. It’s hard not to get into fights when you work in strip clubs. The girls in that microcosm of society are usually catty and competitive by nature. So you have fights. I won a few and I lost a few. I don’t consider myself a fighter, but I can hold my own.
As soon as I slap Kelly, she dives at my legs and both of us go sprawling onto the wet ground where we roll around in the gravel and dirt. Both of us struggle for the advantage by clawing and slapping, but I eventually take control by grabbing her hair and banging her head off the ground. But she is very young and resilient. She claws at my eyes and I have to give up my grip on her hair to protect my eyes from her probing fingers. When I do, she rises up and hits me hard in the jaw with her chin. He blow is just strong enough to daze me, and she presses her advantage by wrapping a hand in my hair. Then she throws several wild punches toward my face but I’m able to drop my chin to my chest and her punches hit me in top of the head.
Her punches hurt like hell, but one of them must have hurt her worse, because she all of a sudden screams in pain and falls away clutching her hand. Seeing this opening, I dive at her and drive my shoulder into her stomach. Once again, we spill onto the ground and roll around in the dirt and gravel. She starts throwing wild punches as we tumble, but one of them is with her obviously injured hand. It strikes me hard in the shoulder, but she howls in pain. She clutches her hand to her body again, and we stop rolling. I am now atop of her and I work my way into a straddling position. Once there, I wrap a hand deep into her blonde hair and punch her in the face until she is tearfully screaming her surrender. But remembering how she openly claimed she was going to fuck my man or me, I slam her head into the ground until she is slobbering and glassy-eyed. I stop only when I hear sirens in the distance heading this way. I stand up and begin to step away from her, but I stop and turn back. She is now crying on the ground and still clutching her hand to her body. I step back over her and ask, “Are you still horny, bitch?” as I viciously kick her in the ribs. I step away, but kick her one last time for good measure. I walk into my trailer and await the impending arrival of the sheriff’s officers.
The sheriff’s department comes and goes without really doing anything. No one in the trailer park will give them the time of day…let alone help them with an investigation. Another neighbor later told me that Kelly told them she fell out of a pickup truck, and had a friend take her to the hospital. The neighbor also tells me that Kelly has a broken hand and a cracked rib. All the neighbors are ecstatic that the trailer park troublemaker got her ass kicked. But my troubles are only beginning. Her mother just came home from the hospital, and she is out for blood. And Joe has gone to work.
Let me tell you a little bit about Kelly’s mother. It the term “Trailer Park Trash” was in the dictionary, Debra would be pictured with it. She is the same height and weight as her daughter, and she has the same hairdo. But that is where the similarities end. Debra used to look like her daughter. But years of hard drugs and prostitution have used her up. She is also a brawler like her daughter. But she is much more cunning. It is rumored that she killed another woman in a bar fight, but, like I said, that’s just a rumor. I do know she has been in prison, but I think it was for drugs and burglary. She probably has a more extensive arrest record, but I really know nothing about it.
As expected, she makes a beeline for our door. I watch her through a window. The 42 year old Debra is wearing the usual attire of a trailer park prostitute…a button up sleeveless white shirt, very short denim shorts and cowboy boots. I let her get about three pounding knocks in before I jerk the door open. The first thing she does when she sees me is invite me into the front yard. The first this I say is no.
Now Debra isn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but she is street smart. She knows not to rush into the trailer after me, which could get her into all kinds of criminal trouble. I was hoping that she would, though. I was going to hit her with Joe’s ball-peen hammer as soon as she crossed the threshold. But to my regret, she doesn’t take the bait. She just flashes a toothless grin (she took out her dentures for the occasion) and says, “You have to come out sometime, bitch. You picked a fight with my girl and beat her up and I’m gonna stomp your uppity ass.”
I remind her that she has only heard one side of the story, and it’s obviously the wrong one. I invite her to ask any of the twenty, or so, witnesses what actually happened. Of course, she refuses the invitation and she says, “Don’t matter anyway, princess. I’ve wanted to beat your snotty ass since you moved in.”
I tell Debra to kindly remove herself from my porch and she again reminds me that I will have to come out sooner or later. Then she says something that infuriates me, “Maybe I’ll catch you when you have to take your ugly ass kids to school. Wonder what they’d think seeing their mamma get her ass stomped….”
Angry at the thought of having to fight this toothless troll…and most likely losing…in front of my children makes me make what could be a rash decision. I step out onto the porch and shove Debra as hard as I can. She’s not expecting it, and she stumbles backwards then tumbles down the steps into the front yard.
I storm down the steps after her, but Debra the brawler is already scurrying to her feet. Before she can stand fully up, I punch her twice in the face. She drops back onto her butt, but half crabwalks backwards before I can move into finish her. She strikes out with her booted foot and it lands squarely on my bare shin. I yelp in agony and nearly fall, but before I do, another booted foot hits me in the stomach.
I fall over in pain and Debra is all over me. She straddles me and starts punching me in much the same way I punched her daughter. Fearing what could happen in my current predicament…remembering the rumors…I start bucking wildly and throwing punches. Fortunately, one of those punches catches Debra in the right boob and she gasps in agony and stops punching me long enough for me to grab both hands full of her hair. I jerk her sideways and buck my body at the same time and successfully dislodge her.
But Debra is a cunning old slut. As soon as she is bucked off me, she lashes out with her boot again and this time I catch the point of it in the knee. I yell out in agony and release her hair. I clutch my injured knee in much the same way Kelly held her injured hand. Debra slowly gets to her feet and circles me like a vulture. After a minute of enjoying my agony, she lashes out with her boot again and kicks me hard in the thigh. Again I yelp in pain.
Debra continues circling me, and then she starts toying with me. She places the heel of her boot on my belly and presses down as hard as she can. She even puts all her weight on that one foot and stands completely up on me. She eventually loses her balance, but as she staggers off, she kicks me hard in the side. This kick is so close to my kidney that I almost pee myself. Fortunately, I’m able to spare myself that dignity. I try to curl up into a protective ball on the ground, but a pointed toe kick to the ribs ends those hopes.
Debra continues to circle and taunt me. She playfully nudges me with the toes of her boots and says, “C’mon princess. Not so tough when you ain’t pickin’ fights with little girls, are you?” Of course I hurt too badly to remind her that Kelly is legally an adult and that she started the fight. “Cain’t hurt a real woman, can you, snooty bitch?” Then she drives the heel of her boot hard into my ribs. I cry out again and she starts laughing. “You ain’t so tough. I bet Kelly’d whip your ass too, if you didn’t cheat like you did earlier. Too bad she won’t get the chance. I aim to stomp you to death shortly.”
I’m lying on the ground in a tearful heap and I can hardly breath because I have to have a couple of broken ribs. But I hear her words loud and clear. My children are in the trailer. How can I let this happen with them here? I know Debra is sincere. I can see her eyes. She really means to kill me. I can’t let that happen. My kids would be alone with these animals until someone called the police. The police? Where the hell are they, anyway? Of course it is a Saturday night in a Mississippi delta town. They’re swamped with other calls. I’m on my own for a little while. And if I don’t do something soon, this crazy woman is going to beat me to death.
Debra continues circling and taunting me. She prods me with her boot every once in awhile to make sure I haven’t passed out. She’ll also kick me every now and then in an attempt to make me pass out. But then I see my chance. A truck pulls into the trailer park and Debra briefly turns her attention to it. When she does, I gather all my remaining strength, raise half way up, and punch her in the crotch with what remaining strength I have. Debra doubles up from the blow and falls to the ground clutching her aching privates. Now I’m running on adrenaline only…and fear for my kids and my very life. I grab the nearest thing I can find, which turns out to be a broken brick, and I drive it as hard as I can into the top of Debra’s head until she goes limp. After that, I slip into a world of darkness.
A couple hours later I awake in the local hospital. A sheriff’s deputy is hovering nearby and he tells the duty nurse that I’m awake. I look at the deputy and croak, “Am I going to jail.” He quickly says, “No. But the woman you fought with is going. The neighbors told us what happened. I’m here to update your condition and get your statement.”
I sigh in relief…and even that hurts like hell. But then the deputy tells me, “You should probably think about moving. Debra has a twin sister who lives in a trailer down the road from you. She’s already telling people she’s gonna kill you for trying to ‘murder’ her sister and niece.”
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