Black Plague

Chapter 1

My life was shit. It had been for as long as I could remember. My parents were drunks and killed in a car accident. At least according to my aunt and uncle. They hated me. I couldn't do anything right. I tried to stay quiet and take up as little space as possible. Both at home and in school. My goal was to stay under the radar. Always. If I did too well in school, it angered them, because it made Dudley, my cousin, look bad. If I did too badly, it upset them because I made them look bad. So, I made sure I did just enough to be unnoticed. I didn't speak out or complain. I struggled to be invisible. The only person who did notice me was my cousin, Dudley. He hated me, as much as my guardians, if not more. I don't think he knew why. But he called me a freak and loser every chance he got. He learned those from his parents.
Any time something weird happened around me, it was my fault. I didn't know how, it just was. If something unexpected happened, or I teleported somewhere. He and his friends would beat me for it. I learned quickly, never get overly upset. Not fight back. Don't rock the boat. Don't get noticed. I wore all black if at all possible. Then people saw me less but gray was fine too. My guardians gave me Dudley's hand-me-downs, but they didn't fit, at all. He was a big guy. Strong. Menacing. At least twice my weight. And a head taller than me. I scrounged through the lost and found. That was where almost all my clothes came from. Well, all my shirts, sweat shirts, jackets and coats. I didn't find many pants there. But jeans last longer. And I was more of a reader. A nerd. So, my pants didn't wear out. I had enough pants to last year's. I couldn't use many of them yet, but I would grow into them. They were husky fit most times. But I found a belt, and they didn't look too ridiculous. It looked intentional, almost stylish. Well, if sagging your pants was your thing. And I didn't care. As long as I wasn't drowning in my clothes and sloppy.
I didn't need people to see me. And they would definitely notice the underweight midget overwhelmed in folds of clothes too long and wide for him. Plus, I knew if my teachers saw me in clothes that big, it would just accentuate how small I was and I didn't need my guardians pissed off about social services being called. That would just land me in more hot water, even if they caused it. And there was no doubt, they were at fault.
They weren't the most consistent with giving me food. Never gave me my own clothes. Or a bed room. They let Dudley have two rooms, and I slept in a closet, well a cupboard, but pretty much the same thing. It only fit a toddler bed. But seeing as I was malnourished and undersized, I fit fine. Well, if I didn't sleep with my legs straight.
I had some old broken or unwanted toys from Dudley. I also had random things I found on the ground, or in the lost and found. You found interesting things in there sometimes. My favorite finds were books. I spent a lot of time in my closet, so it was nice having something to do. Books were nice and quiet. You might wonder how I had light. Well, I stole it. It was a small round light that you could push to turn it on. I slipped it under my shirt when I went with My family to the store. Ok, not family. They will never be family. Guardians. I also stole batteries from time to time when I ran low. I kept the light above the door. People never really noticed it. It didn't look out of place. I've had it a couple years now. I know it's bad, but I steal a lot. I'm actually quite good at it. You carry stuff with you for a few isles while looking around and casually slip it in a pocket. As you pick other stuff up. Then go and act like you want to buy the other stuff, only to realize you forgot your wallet. But you can't do that every time at the same shop, they would begin finding that weird. Other times I grab batteries while I wait in line with the people I live with. They never pay attention to me. Nobody really does. I slip snacks, small toys, batteries, socks, underwear, you know basic essentials. Well mostly. I've only been caught once. And they just gave me a warning. Thank God. If my guardians had found out, they'd have killed me.
Okay, that's an exaggeration. They would either ground me and shove me in my room, or make me do a ridiculous amount of chores, and maybe if they were mad enough, push me around or shove me into a wall or two. But, I've gotten theft down to an art form. I have a nice little stash of snacks under my bed. I keep them in an old cardboard box I swiped during Christmas one year. It fits perfectly. I also keep all the library books I "forgot" to check out under my bed, in another couple boxes. I "forget" a lot. I need something to keep my mind occupied. If I just sat in bed and pondered my miserable life every time I was locked in my "room", I doubt I'd be sane.
My home life can be summed up in one word: miserable.
I'm sure some people would judge me for the choices I make. But people do what they need to, to survive. And ok, maybe other's wouldn't think I need batteries, books, toys, and lights,  but I don't care, I maintain it's a necessity. I'll admit, I might swipe more than is absolutely necessary to live, but it helps maintain a reasonable quality of life. And I have so few simple pleasures.

Lately, I've been growing my hair out. It makes it easier to hide behind. My guardians complain that it looks unkept, and I look more and more like a girl, but I don't care I like it. Petunia has tried repeatedly to cut my hair this year, but it always grows back. Its little joys like this, that make my life bearable. She absolutely hates it. Luckily, she mostly forgets about it, if she didn't I would let it be cut, just to be less noticable again. But after cutting it, she forget about me again until she gets a hair up her ass again. Unusual she doesn't notice for weeks. Sometimes months. I think she just believes my hair grows fast. If she noticed it growing over night, like it does, she would probably have an aneurysm. I can see it now, her face turning purple with rage and demanding I clean the house spotless. Once I've done everything in the house a few times over, being thrown into my "room" for a week or two. With almost no food. Not that it's that big a deal. I have a light, lots of batteries, and more books and snacks to tide me over. It actually kind of peaceful. I generally like being locked in my "room". The space is completely mine. Nobody else really even fit in it. It's quiet, and surrounded with all the things I works so hard to collect. It's mine. With all my favorite things. Yes. I would have to pee in a bottle until I was let out once a day for a 10 minute bathroom break. Where I can clean it out and take a quick shower and expell my bowels. I also fill a few bottles with water, so I don't go thirsty. But honestly I would rather be in my room, then anywhere else in the world. If they really wanted to punish me, they would lock me out of my room, not in. But, I'd never willingly hand over that information. It's best for me if I pout and trudge to my private space. I acted too happy a couple times and learned quickly that was stupid. They quickly find a less favorable punishment. I also learned fighting back or stomping was stupid too. That just makes them angry. Best to quietly protest. 
When you live in a hostile environment like I do, you learn quickly how to survive. And maybe even thrive. And I have. Self preservation is everything.
It's my 11th birthday tomorrow. I plan to stay up til midnight like every year and sing myself happy birthday. It somehow ended up a yearly tradition a few years back. I think it started with not being able to sleep one year, and watching it turn 12 am. I sang to myself, and it kind of cheered me up. I was having an especially hard time. I hadn't learned all the life lessons I have now, and life was much harder. I was hungrier, dressed in rags, and lonely. That was the turning point in my life. I learned different coping mechanism over that year. Now, I have a pretty good life. I still get lonely I guess. But I kind of like the silence. Honestly, people kind of suck. There are a few people I could probably make friends with. Others who also live as outcast. But Dudley likes to pick in any acquaintances I have, as discouragement for them. And I don't really want their lives any more troubled than they already are. I'm not the only person with a shit life. I know this. And I don't want to make their lives worse. Also, it's easier to stay in the background when you're silent. And I like being in the background. That's where I feel most comfortable. I hate people looking at me. My skin itches when I know eyes are on me. I can feel their eyes burning my skin. Being the center of attention is my living hell.
No thank you.