Orange Sherbet and Jessica Rabbit

by Sara Crowley

We called Jessica "Rabbit" because of the two great Bugs Bunny teeth that stuck so awkwardly out of her mouth. The boys in my class would whit whoo her, and make those hour glass shapes with their hands to show where her breasts and hips may have been, were she not just a nine-year-old girl with no discernible sticky out bits other than the aforementioned calcium bones. I joined in, suppressing the sick flutter of shame in my stomach as I cat called and wolf whistled that poor girl. At Jeremy Miller’s birthday tea I bent double, clutching my stomach in an overblown parody of mock hysteria, as Jessica put a spoonful of orange sherbet ice cream to her mouth, and then screeched with terrible agony as the frozen dessert clanged against her sensitive incisors. She made her way to me, and my arm was in her grip before I knew it. I can still see the faint marks where she bit deep into my flesh, welding pain and shame together into a moral badge I have referred to the rest of my life.

6S - C2

Sara Crowley is (in no particular order) a mum, writer, daughter, bitch, sister, friend, bookseller, and wife.