Scraped off the Highway

Scrape Us Off The Highway

Mallory opened her eyes to knocking on the thin, wooden door to the left of the small cot she lay in. She pushed her palms into her eyes, rubbing the sleep away as a nurse stepped into her room to check her vitals and deliver her meds. She swallowed the pills dry, refusing the small cup of water the nurse offered. It was never enough anyways.

"Good morning Mallory," The nurse spoke, smiling down at her, "Just a reminder that you are being released today, but I am sure you already knew that."

"I know... Jillian," Mallory met eyes with the cool, gold name tag pinned to her shirt, "Not much to do in here but count the days." She spoke confidently. 'And rip my fingernails apart.' Mallory kept that part to herself, just in case they decided to use that as an excuse to keep her longer.

As the nurse left, Mallory flipped through her discharge papers, pressing a scratchy pen into the paper where a signature was required. The nurse had highlighted bolded words like "Suspect: Bipolar Disorder" and "Manic Depression," "Hereditary" Her parents had renounced custody a long time ago, and after bouncing about from foster home to foster home, she finally applied for her own independence. The last foster home was her final straw. Beatrice and Matthew, and their three boys. Matthew made no effort to know her, and Beatrice made every effort to remind her she was nothing more than an extra helping hand. Matthew and Beatrice did not give Mallory her own room either, which was the one requirement they had been tasked with. The eldest son had his own room, and Matthew claimed that he needed an office for work. He worked at a grocery store. They used Mallory as childcare more than anything, that way the couple were free to go out late into the night. It was one of those nights that Mallory woke up to a soaking mattress for the third time that week. The room reeked of urine, and the two sniveling boys looked up at her apologetically. She did her best to clean up the mess, as well as the two boys; but apparently it did not meet the standards of Matthew and Beatrice. When they came home, they called her into the kitchen and screamed themselves sick. Mallory did not cry, she refused. She stared back up at them, not feeling one bit sorry for them, or their pee-bed boys. Beatrice felt that her lack of waterworks was an act of defiance, so they kept her home from school to wash the sheets by hand. Later that afternoon, Mallory used a payphone across the street to call her social worker, and find a way to apply for independent living. She was fourteen.

Once the paperwork had been signed and filed away, Mallory was allowed to change back into her street clothes as opposed to the itchy sweatpants and sweater they provided her with. Whether he didn't care enough, or was too afraid of the answer, the discharge officer didn't bother asking her if she had a ride or a place to stay. What would he do if she said she had nowhere to go? Take her in Orphan Annie style? No way. He handed Mallory her satchel and a bag from the hospital full of things to hopefully help her along.

The fresh air pushed into her lungs, clearing away the sterile, dusty air of the hospital. She paused for a moment and looked at her surroundings, admiring the orange leafed trees. Her admiration was interrupted as a familiar honking sounded off.

"Come on! Let's move it." Valentine called out to her, sticking an arm out of the window to motion her towards the black car.

Valentine Hayes was tall and lean, and had been since Mallory met him in middle school. The two had been inseparable since they met, regardless of the fact that Valentine was two years older than her. Despite being only 14 at the time, he had a certain kind of quiet wisdom that Mallory respected enough to listen to his direction. However, that quiet wisdom wasn't always moral. He taught Mallory the best way to steal things, which convenient stores had cameras, which stores in the mall were easiest to steal from and even how to break into cars. Despite his teachings, he didn't let her pull any of these stunts alone. Most of the time, she was the distraction or the watch, and he pulled the merchandise. Valentine lived with his mother, grandmother and three older brothers. Similar to Mallory, his father wasn't in the picture. No drama, no fighting; he was just never there to begin with. His oldest brother had left home a few years ago to move in with his girlfriend and their baby. Nathan dropped out of high school to take care of them, and he didn't call very often. Valentine's other brother Mick spent most of his time at school, and the rest of his time in his room working on homework. He was determined to escape the fate of his oldest brother and the other boys in the neighborhood.