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We see Hannah Bergh, past and present as we end Two (II).

 

Two-point-Two

The all-grown-up Hanna pulled slightly on the right side of the ‘Vette’s steering wheel. She deftly exited the parkway. She made a right hand turn onto Third Avenue and entered stop and go traffic.
Hannah pondered, for perhaps the millionth time, why she kept dredging up those particular painful memories. There were so many bad ones for her to choose from. Like the time Terry had overdosed. He was dead, his soul long gone and Hannah’s mother held him. She screamed that she couldn’t be alone. Soon after, Child Protective Services finally came to take Hannah away. Her mother was in a near-catatonic state by then. She was transformed by misery and grief into a creature that no longer resembled the mother Hannah remembered. Even her craziest days were better than this.
No matter how many of them she dug up, it always came back to the same ones.
Hannah braked at a light. She was still behind a shit-ton of traffic. She leaned back against the seat and fingered, again, the gold and emerald pin.
More memories.
Hannah was disgusted by her mother. Hannah knew her mother would have let Terry’s drug dealer rape her, too, if he would have lived long enough. Her mother would have been, Hannah was sure, too frightened to help even her own daughter. The men she couldn’t blame. Her mother constantly gravitated toward the worst of them. Those men simply did the same things all pigs did. But Hannah’s mother let them.
Terry’s drug dealer didn’t touch me though, huh Momma? I took care of that asshole my own damn self.
If Hannah wouldn’t have injected Terry with a lethal measure of heroin while he was already passed out from his normal dose, she would have been next. She heard Terry and the medicine man discussing the disgusting details. Apparently, the two men were going to double-up on Hannah. Her mother was sitting right there, listening to the whole thing. She wouldn’t have lifted a finger to help her daughter, or herself.
An elderly couple took Hannah in for foster care. They moved her to their nice, peaceful home in Dallas. She was very fortunate. They were good, solid, humble God-fearing folks. They provided Hannah with the attention she craved in an environment that was conducive to her health and well-being. Hannah was very well cared for and educated. The only thing her foster parents failed in was teaching Hannah to love. They certainly tried, but were far too late. Hanna’s heart had already become frozen solid by the time they were able to exert their positive influence.
The kind and gentle folks who finished raising Hannah Bergh had been delighted in the teenager’s remarkable progress. Hannah returned their kindness with outward displays of respectful behavior that was beyond reproach. Not inside Hannah. She kept the storm alive. Deep inside Hannah’s psyche, even below the tempestuous storms that sometimes lashed out with no warning, there was a slow, constant burn. This burn was kept alive by the memories. That and the knowledge that when one has obtained enough wealth (her foster parents were very well-off and nobody fucked with them) no can hurt you.
Remember what I said.
Don’t worry, Momma. I will.
These things were etched very deeply in the hidden recesses of Hannah’s mind. They never went away. She never grew out of it. Her manifesto of acquiring vast wealth helped shape the very fabric and patterns of her existence. Her path to fortune and the security she craved were not to be trifled with. Anyone who’d been foolish enough to have crossed her path could attest to Ms. Hannah Bergh’s unbelievable ruthlessness. They became obstacles standing in her way. They were ugly weeds, so she cut them down.
No mercy shown and no quarter given. This high-toned bitch has no problem swinging the heavy hammer. Hell, just ask Terry.
The traffic began to move, albeit at a snail’s pace. Hannah wasn’t concerned. The hospital was less than a kilometer away. St. Anthony Medical Center, this is where she mattered. The research lab was where she’s important. Hannah ruled it like the fiefdom she felt it was. It was hers. The power was truly intoxicating.
The traffic opened up, moving finally. Hannah drove automatically, still deep in thought. She continued rubbing the gold and emerald pin like it was a talisman of great fortune. She pulled into the staff parking lot and drove to her assigned space.
Hannah Bergh’s empire building was in full swing.
“Perfect,” she told her reflection in the rear view mirror. Her smile was full and quite deadly. Not one you would expect to see from a meticulously groomed, shod and quaffed career person as herself. But it was indeed there. Hannah Bergh liked the wicked side of her. “It’s why no one dares to fuck with me.”
Not anymore anyway.
Hannah Bergh left the ‘Vette. She strode with purpose toward the entrance to the research wing of the hospital.
“I wonder if that idiot Pender has managed to get his head out of his ass yet,” she muttered aloud as she walked. She smiled again.
Probably not.

Are you BadAss enough to dig this shit? This shit, right here?!!

—END PHARMACIDE excerpt post #7….Go to ‘NEWER POSTS’ for post #8!!

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