Devil in the Good Girl

By Jean V. Duncan

Victoria, a nice timid little girl, is sent by her grandparents to live with her mother and stepfather. She develops an evil alter ego to survive her new life against mean half-brothers and a terrorizing school bully. The devil in Victoria leads to sexual promiscuity and drugs. It's a raucous and rocky road as she battles the holy and unholy wars inside herself to shape the young woman she becomes

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rum Water Eyes Media, LLC
• Release date: Nov 17, 2013
• ISBN: 9780988341630

Jean V. Duncan

Jean V. Duncan is a writer of all writings. She is a produced TV screenwriter,published national magazine contributing writer, newspaper features writer, sports writer,technical writer, poet, and now, a novelist.She began her professional writing career at the age of fifteen when her high schoolEnglish teacher submitted one of her class essays to a local magazine and her essay waspublished.Ms. Duncan is a graduate of the University of Wisconsin at Madison, and recentlygraduated Summa Cum Laude from Loyola Marymount University earning a Master of Artsdegree in English with Creative Writing Emphasis. She currently lives in Los Angeleswith her husband and writing partner Steve Duncan who is a writer-director-producer andLMU screenwriting professor. The couple is currently developing a series of interactive novels for young adults under their company Rum Water Eyes Media LLC.Jean is on Facebook at RumWaterEyesMedia, on Wordpress.com atRumWaterEyesMediaJean, and Twitter at @RumWaterEyesMedia.

Book preview

Devil in the Good Girl

By

Jean V. Duncan

Rum Water Eyes Media, LLC

Smashwords Edition

Devil in the Good Girl

Copyright 2013 Jean V. Duncan

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedicated to the loves of my life. First, my husband Steve who inspires me with his creativity every moment of every day. And, to my true BFF, Charlotte Ann Wilhite, a fearless spirit-woman who continually encourages me in each and every way. Char, you are eternally with me through the good and the bad. I thank God for you because you guide my soul. Until we meet again, my sister-friend, Rest in Peace.

Devil in the Good Girl

Chapter 1

Victoria’s Prologue

Devil in the Good Girl

"Saints are sinners who kept going."

Robert Louis Stevenson

There’s a big difference between good and evil. They’re opposites. In human behavior, good and evil are equated to devils and angels or saints and sinners.

Merriam Webster’s Dictionary defines these opposites—good and evil, saint and sinner, devil and angel as follows:

Good—virtuous, right, commendable, e.g.: a good person, good conduct; kind, benevolent, e.g. good intentions.

Evil—morally reprehensible, sinful.

Saint—one eminent for piety or virtue.

Sinner—one who sins; commits an offense, an action that is or is felt to be highly reprehensible; an often serious shortcoming.

In female human behavior, a term used to describe an evil female or a female sinner is a Bitch.

Merriam Webster’s Dictionary definition: Bitch—a female dog. A lewd or immoral woman; a malicious, spiteful, or overbearing woman.

The word bitch is an Old English word that’s has been around since the 12th Century. I’d like to know the first person who was called a bitch and by who and why. The word is also very versatile. Of course, it’s a noun describing a woman or a female dog. It can also be used as a verb to depict the behavior of a female or male, Their neighbors bitch at them all the time. It can also be used as an adverb, The word is a bitch to spell.

In my opinion, a bitch, like beauty, is in the eyes of the beholder. They’re just definitions and labels. Who can say who’s a saint, who’s a sinner; or who’s a devil, who’s an angel, or who’s a bitch?

I can say, of myself, that I’ve been all of the above at some point in my life. And, I’ll probably be all of the above again at some point in my future.

It has been my experience that some girls, young women and older women enjoy being called and considered a saint. On the other hand, there are some who don’t mind being considered a bitch. The same notion might be said for those who don’t mind being called a sinner. They are all subjective. Like beauty – a saint, a sinner, and a bitch are all in the eye of the beholder.

There have been times in my life when I was considered a saint, a nice girl, a good girl. And, of course, there were times when I was considered a sinner. And, for certain, there were times when l was called a bitch and I unleashed the crazy in me.

My childhood home environments were the foundations that offered plenty of opportunities for me to become a saint, a sinner, and/or a bitch then and later in life.

Some of my childhood homes were peaceful sanctuaries. I was comforted by silent serenity. Others were also filled with silence. Yet that silence held a tense undercurrent of domestic violence. As a child I came to view silence in these two very different ways. I loved the one, and feared the other. It was often an enormous burden to discern the difference.

Silence rested in sunny afternoons on the kitchen floor drawing colorful pictures on endless white paper from the mountain of 64-colors Crayola box. Silence was broken in an instance as the front door slapped twice less than a minute apart to meet the gun of a car engine with profane screams and relentless hands clutched to the door handle as the vehicle dragged bloody knees and feet for yards and yards as neighbors watched.

Silence was nestling in my grandmother’s lap before bedtime as she read from The Bible. Silence also held at bay the sound of the backdoor slamming in the middle of the night followed by bloodcurdling sounds of the kitchen butcher knife violently shredding a fortunately thick downed hunting jacket as furniture rattled the room.

Living between these two worlds was a tall order for one so small. I learned to become soft and hardened at the same time. I ultimately suppressed my emotions. I grew into a calm, cool and collected young woman who experimented with sex, hard drugs and rock ‘n’ roll.

I prided myself in being cool. At an early age I read Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet, and remembered the word he wrote, Keep your head while all around you were losing theirs.

A cool exterior was a good safe guard. But it sometimes came with a price. That price was often emotional detachment. If a person or a situation didn’t suit me, I simply discontinued my presence. However, eventually one must face people and life. Most importantly, one must face oneself.

It was at that point I wondered if I was in fact maturing or reverting backward to that shy, emotionally divided young girl.

I began to search for answers. It was the only way I could live with myself and move onward. The only way I could breakthrough into my true, authentic self.

I began to acknowledge the two sides of my personality. One wanted to be a saint. The other wants what she wants when and how she wants it, and to hell with everyone else.

And so, the battle begins.

Chapter 2

"It is better to be hated for what you are than loved for what you are not."

Andre Gide

I wasn’t a nice girl.

I wasn’t a nice person.

I think nice is overrated. Baseball Hall of Famer Leo The Lip Durocher, was pretty well known not-so-nice guy. At one time he was quoted as saying, Nice guys finish last.

Who declared that being nice was a good thing?

For argument sake, off the top of my head I can think of one well known nice guy – Jesus Christ. He preached a lot about being nice and about love – Love one another, Love your neighbor as yourself. But according to The Bible, even Jesus got pissed now and then. There was the time He was in the temple and he totally went off on the moneychangers. He completely lost it. He turned over tables and wrecked the place. So, obviously not even Jesus Christ was nice all of the time.

Leo Durocher’s Nice guys finish last quote is widely well-known in the competitive world of sports and in the other areas of life. But I can’t think of a widely well-known quote about the benefits of being nice.

I’m thinking.

Still thinking.

Nothing comes to mind.

Maybe there’s a well-known quote from The Bible. I can’t think of one as snappy as Nice guys finish last.

Give it some thought.

If you come up with one, good for you – maybe you’re a nice person.

Maybe you’re like Jesus, you’re a nice guy or a nice girl.

Or maybe you’re like Leo Durocher. Maybe you’re not such a nice guy, not such a nice girl. Maybe you don’t want to finish last.

Chances are you’re more like me – sometimes nice, sometimes not so nice.

I wasn’t a nice girl because deep down inside. And sometimes on the immediate surface, there was a raving maniac of a Bitch screaming to get out. Yes, I was a Bitch – with a capital B. Other bitches, with a lower-case b, acknowledged the capital Bitch in me. However, it took me a long time to acknowledge the Bitch in myself. It took a long time to accept the Bitch in myself. I didn’t have a split personality in the clinical sense. I’d describe it more like a mood that came over me. Sometimes I blamed the Krazy Bitch in me to give myself a convenient excuse to lash out and just be a Bitch on general principle.

Krazy Bitch is the name I gave myself when the mood came over me for whatever reason. Krazy with a capital K – gave me some edge, some street cred. K.B. is the nickname I gave the Krazy Bitch. K.B. was the tough, callous, devil-may-care reckless side of me. I used K.B. when I wanted to be wild and outrageous. Whenever tantrums flared, it was the Krazy Bitch in me. Tantrums were the Krazy Bitch’s typical mode of operation, my favorite calling card.

In my K.B. state of mind, the most insignificant things annoyed me and I let it be known. Most people who fly off the handle regret their behavior soon afterward. Their rage is followed by remorse, and in a lot of cases, embarrassment. That wasn’t the case for me. I stood by my K.B. actions. I thrived on confrontation and damned the consequences. My Krazy Bitch’s attitude was – to hell with it and everybody who had a problem with it or with me. They could just get over it, get out of my way or move on dot org.

Chapter 3

"Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth."

Holy Bible, Matthew 5:5 KJV

This fairly well known quote from The Bible depicts the benefit and reward of being meek, being nice. This is a quote I attribute to my other alter ego – the Practicing Saint side of myself. I nicknamed this alter ego P.S. This Practicing Saint side of me gladly accepted the nice girl image. The P.S. in me embraced meekness, niceness, Mother Earth and all her people. She was the quintessential nice girl, the certified good girl. She was my calm, quiet, patient and considerate side. The Practicing Saint in me worked diligently to keep me calm to carry on, keep me serene and balanced in a crazy coming-of-age world that was loaded with countless choices.

The Practicing Saint side of me represented all of the qualities of goodness and kindness in me. She helped me to see only the good in others. P.S. was compassionate, caring, trusting and understanding.

Of course, life constantly tested the Practicing Saint side of me. P.S. was quiet, introspective and introverted. My P.S. alter ego was an emotional coping mechanism that I used to counteract my Krazy Bitch alter ego.

The internal battles were, for the most part, evenly played out. Though K.B. won more conflicts than she lost, P.S. garnered some very significant triumphs. Generally, the most important decisions in my life were made using my Practicing Saint persona. But the Krazy Bitch in me still had a destructive streak that managed to influence some of my life decisions.

I sustained a delicate and on-going balancing act in my mind. Each day brought with it hope and despair all in one. For a good part of my developing years, I never knew how these two battling forces would impact events and individuals in my life.

The Krazy Bitch in me popped up often and at the most inappropriate times. Bad timing was K.B.’s modus operandi. But because the Practicing Saint in me was patient, kind and considerate, I was sometimes spared the embarrassment of projecting wild outbursts and inappropriate behavior. Growing up, an apology and a few kind words often went a long way, thanks in large part to my Practicing Saint persona.

However, for much of my life I walked a thin line between being good and kind, and being bad and evil. I wanted to do good things and be a good girl. But often I discovered that my goodness was taken for granted. My kindness was taken for weakness. So, the Krazy Bitch in me came out and tore down whatever goodness the Practicing Saint in me had built.

It was difficult for me to know