Cherry Pie Lane

By Scianna Brown

In this captivating, page-turning thriller, Angelina comes home one day from visiting her mother, only to find someone has broken into her apartment. The intruder has left behind their telltale signs...in the form of blood and severed fingers. It is impossible for Angelina to look the other way, so she begins her own investigation. Compromising

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palmetto Publishing
• Release date: May 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9798885902731

Scianna Brown

Scianna Brown was born and raised in Akron, Ohio, the second child of two. She attended a performing arts school, majoring in art. That specialized education taught her to be innovative in the way she thinks, draws, and writes. She considers herself an artist with words, able to blend and create them into something beautiful for all to enjoy. Her writing was inspired by her number one fan, her mother. Scianna is married and enjoys life in its fullest splendors, admiring of a simple way of living, a carefree woman who loves to smile.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

In the Beginning…

Well, it all started when I was born and all hell broke loose. My mother, Old Rosy, insisted that I came out of an odorless, cooped-up, zipless pouch—ten years later formally known as the big, hairy vagina. She often told me I came out of her cocoon quietly. She also said that I was not able to talk until I was four and that my first steps of life were at the ripe old age of ten. I’d like to think she was kidding around.

Hell, I think Old Rosy was insinuating that I was mentally challenged. Needless to say, I grew up into a remarkable woman and forgot everything I was taught, including common sense!

I walked into Old Rosy's house. Lo and behold, she was having one of her intellectual conversations inside her head but simultaneously at whatever was closest to her. Today, it just so happened to be a wall that walked and talked. I chuckled a bit and walked through the narrowest hallway ever made by man. I even had to turn sideways, and I’m not that fat.

I was suddenly stunned in great fear and regret. I had just witnessed my mother sitting on her bed, butt naked. Her ass was out, and everything else was too. At that moment, my eyes took a turn for the worse. My eyes died, right then and there, which was the only funeral I’d been to in a long time. I then proceeded with caution through the doorway. Old Rosy did something unspeakable…She stood up and started walking toward me. By accident she dropped a potato chip on the floor. If anyone knew anything about the female human body, it was that whenever a woman bent over, the sight one saw was a tremendous monster with a mustache. The regret I had was wishing I had never walked into her house from the beginning.

I immediately turned around and politely asked her to, please, put something on that preferably covered every open orifice on her wrinkled body.

She said, You know you take chances whenever you strut your tail into my house.

I couldn’t dispute that solely, because this was her house, and my sister and I moved out two years ago.

Several minutes passed, and in came my wonderful mother. She was walking out with nothing other than a mix between a cheetah- and cow-print muumuu on. What an imaginable contrapment. She looked like an old, decrepit woman who just came from running with the antelopes. I was greatly satisfied in her contribution to sparing my corneas, which were left abandoned by my sight.

My mother and I plopped down on her couch and had one of our infamous, yet interesting, chats. We talked about Grams. Grams was my mother's mom, and was very persistent when it came to her firstborn, Old Rosy. Check this out—the two even went underwear shopping together. I think it's fair to say that my Grams had bought my mother's whole entire line of underwear for years.

All of a sudden, the phone rang, and I was saved by the bell. My mother and I both looked at each other as though we had never even heard the phone ringing. I asked Old Rosy if she was going to get that. If only I were given a penny every time my mother gave me a shameful look, I’d be rolling in the dough.

Oh, it's no one of importance. I’ll call whoever it is later, said my mom.

I had to think quickly because my shower water was running. Maybe it's your other daughter yearning to hear your voice.

Old Rosy ran to the phone and answered it without looking at the caller ID. Hello, and with that hello, my mom would’ve made a swell phone-sex operator. An instant attitude sprang into action as soon as the responder reciprocated the hello. I somehow knew what kind of day I was going to have only because of who was on the other line—my Grams. She was literally the only one who ever called my mom. For someone who never received any phone calls, one would think answering the phone wouldn’t be as hard as having a job. I absolutely didn’t want to hear the two bickering back and forth. After all, my Grams was, like, one hundred years old, umm, give or take some years.

I calmly grabbed my clothes into which I was changing and continued on my path into the scorching water that was going to serenade my body with joy. Ahh, the shower! I was in the shower for over an hour. My skin was so wrinkled, I could’ve been an extended sister to the California Raisins. I remember thinking, I sure hope the falderal between the two fat ladies will be over. Just in case it wasn’t, I had to find a way to exit the premises without having to speak a word. Old Rosy was still arguing on the phone. The two were going at it back and forth. My mother was once again treated as though she were ten years old.

I can’t stand it! Would you listen to her? my mother exclaimed. Rosy put my Grams on speakerphone so that I could hear everything.

Oh, Rosy, I sent you four one-dollar lottery tickets. I also have fifty cents off any one item over two hundred dollars. My mom's eyes rolled to the back of her head, and her face became enraged.

I took the phone away from her, stat, and covered it with a pillow. I was doing her a favor. I should’ve just hung up. My Grammy's voice could still be heard, but it was muffled a little.

Oh, Rosy, it’ll be okay. That was the worst thing to say to her at that moment.

Rosy almost had a heart attack. She held her chest, pacing back and forth with the words oh no carelessly skating across her dried, cracked lips.

What's wrong, Mom? I asked.

You know what? Before I could blink, she picked up the phone. I’ll call you back, Mother, and she threw the phone against a wooden shelf, which was covered in picture memorabilia of the two. The pictures came falling down, and the phone shattered into several jellybean-sized pieces.

My time to exit, echoed throughout my brain, but unfortunately I was unable to execute my plan at that moment.

I took a deep breath and sat down on her worn-out chair accompanied by a missing leg. I was propped up between her bed and the wall. One false move or a wee little fart would send my already-aching body tumbling down. I motioned for my mother to come sit next to me on her bed, our nostril hairs practically touching. I had to look and sound like I was concerned. I didn’t even know what had transpired.

What's the matter? I asked Rosy. Boy, did she let me have it. Her head turned in a 360-degree motion while talking to me. Folks, Linda Blair was in the building.

My mother treats me like a child every time I talk to her. How far does she think four one-dollar lottery tickets will get me, as she tells me about an outrageous clothing store. Her attitude is constantly defaming my capability of being an adult!

Wow, so much to say in so little time, I thought.

So what are you going to do? I asked Rosy.

I’m going to do the only thing I know how to do…That's going over your house!

I stopped her words from flowing out any further. If I spent any more time talking to my mom, my head would literally run off my shoulders.

I grabbed my things and told Old Rosy I was cutting the conversation short only because I had to get home and tend to the dog.

You don’t have a dog, Angelina, she said.

If that lie gets me away from your bickering, then I guess I do now! I left her marinating in my dust while she was still talking. I walked five driveways down the street and went home. Who would do it? Live practically next door to a parent?

CHAPTER 2

The Break-in

I finally got home and walked inside my apartment building. I checked my mail and started reading the weekly ads. I arrived at my door and