The Summer the hillbilly witch came to live in our double-wide there were storms. Little green frogs fell from the sky and littered every inch of earth with guts and tiny green corpses. She said it was a sure sign of the apocalypse, the end of the world; she thought the frogs were a bad omen. I thought the frogs were a sign that miracles happen, I imagined that someone prayed to god and asked for it to rain little green frogs. Obviously, god is listening!
I started to pray for the hillbilly witch to go away, I prayed for her to take her dead sons and skin flakes, and leave us alone. I didn’t like yellow rice and chicken. I didn’t like her wig, her polyester shorts that showed the toes of her camel, and I didn’t want to call her Mom. I thought god would hear me eventually, if I prayed loud enough and hard enough, god would hear me, and we would be saved from the beast in second-hand clothing.
I knew she was the one who poured bleach on my Jordache jeans. I knew she stole money from my Father and blamed us. I knew she was BAD news, but I didn’t say anything. I prayed, because I believed in miracles. I climbed trees , collected stickers, and turned cartwheels on a homemade balance beam while a hatchet held by scaly red hands bloodied my childhood.
I started having night terrors. I would wake up to the sound of screams. My own screams….No one seemed concerned. Eventually, I stopped praying.
She killed Zorba and Pepper.
Maybe the hillbilly witch was right. Maybe the frogs were a sign of the end of the world.