Judy G.

I don’t know a Judy G, but she’s on my window. I don’t particularly know why. I don’t particularly care. So I left it there. Maybe whoever Judy G. is will eventually go home. And so what if she doesn’t? I don’t give a crap. It’s just some marker on my bedroom window to me—not like Mom will bother me about it. I don’t even know if she’s ever seen my room, inside or outside of it. Whatever.
Julie comes in sometimes though. My annoying little sister. She barges in and starts blabbering on about something, I don’t know what. I push her off my arm and tell her to go tell someone who cares. She starts screaming—tears, hiccupping, red face, the whole works. I just ignore her.
“Judy G!” my sister hollers, “Judy G!”
She runs off to find Mom but she isn’t home. She never really is. She comes back, the little shit.
“My dolly! Judy G!”
“Shut up. Shut the hell up Julie.”
Snot and tears fly everywhere—she looks like a fuckin’ mess. I stand up and kick my chair aside. It topples over. Julie pauses between her sniffs and finally stops wailing like an ass.
“Where the hell is Mom?” I mutter. I leave her standing there. I don’t care. I take a walk around the block—the rain isn’t so bad. Better than staying in the goddamn house.
When I get home, there it is: “Come Home Judy G!” written right on my bedroom window with black sharpie. There’s even a dumb looking stick figure. It’s a girl stick figure I guess. She has a triangle shaped dress and what might be a disfigured bow on her head.
I still don’t know who Judy G. is. I still don’t particularly care. Julie just keeps looking out my goddamn window. Just standing there like a moron not making a sound.
Mom comes home. I don’t see her though. She called Julie’s name once then gave up I guess. She went to bed, or starting watching TV, or whatever the hell she does.
I crawl into bed. Julie fell asleep under my bedroom window. My head hits the pillow. Two goddamn hours later my eyes are still open.
“Fuck,” I mumble. I get up—I pick up Julie from the floor. Moron.
I carry her across the hallway to her room and notice the tear stains on her face—like small trails leading down to her pink t-shirt. I gently tug off her clothes and slip her into her Care Bear pajamas. She loves those fuckin’ Care Bears. When I’m leaning down to lift up the covers over her—it’s so cold in this goddamn room—she kisses me. On the cheek.
I’m in my bed—listening to the rain. I’m thinking about Judy G. Stupid Judy G. Who the hell cries about losing a doll, anyway? It’s like it’s her only goddamn friend or something…
Can’t sleep. It’s the rain. I peek into my sister’s room. Her eyes are open.
“Julie?” I whisper. She doesn’t answer, but I can see her eyes. She’s looking right at me. I lean over her—I kiss her on the head, “Good night.” I mumble.
I crawl back to bed, exhausted. Goddamn Judy G.