Fragile Memories

Chapter One

This day was exhausting. It drained my soul completely.

First, I didn't get an ounce of sleep for two nights straight. I worked the overnight shift, then the overtime. I skipped school today again because I had no choice. I couldn't be at two places at once. I wouldn't surprised if I didn't graduate at eighteen like the others. The streets were crowded and a man pushed me into a pool of mud. My stomach was growling.

I pushed my way through the streets of New York City. It was a maze here with this a lot of people. I hated big crowds but at least it was easy to blend in. No one noticed a sixteen years old girl on her own, even dripping wet. No one noticed I was on my own and alone. Of course, they did not.

One of the best and worst things about New York was that no one cared.

One of the reasons why I moved back here a year ago from Camas. There were too many nosy people in there who pretended to care and I couldn't afford to be thrown back into foster care. It'd be like trying out for the lottery for millions of dollars. Risking everything for a one percent chance of happiness. It was bullshit. A good family seldom existed out there. I knew my luck and it was never good. I would rather take my own life in my hands than allow a stranger to decide my fate.

I managed to reach my apartment in a few minutes, to my relief. I longed for my bed, after a long day of an overnight shift and overtime. It paid only eleven dollars each hour but it was all I could do as a teenager. At least I had enough to pay the rent. Barely, but still, it was a big accomplishment in a place like New York City.

I wasn't on the streets and stealing cars for some creepy people anymore. I was a full-time student, with two jobs and my own apartment. I was pretty darn proud of myself, considering I never thought I'd made it.

The walls in the tiny apartment I lived in were very thin and I could hear an argument erupting next door. I knew I would hear the things they'd throw at each other soon. The couple was crackheads, always home and both had anger management issues.

My tiny apartment was more like a small studio. It was a just little bigger than an average bedroom. There was a kitchen at the wall, a bedroom at the opposite wall and a bed at the right corner, a comfortable chair that I got from Goodwill, and a TV screen at the left corner. The tiny bathroom was next to the kitchen. It was smelly, moldy, loud, and dim but it was the best I could do. New York City wasn't a cheap city to live in, especially at sixteen years old in high school.

I locked the door behind me, slipped my shoes off, and tore off my jacket. I took a quick shower and shoved the dirty clothes into a bag. I threw myself on the bed and felt a sense of relief embrace me. As soon I did, my stomach growled. I groaned silently. I forgot I haven't eaten for a day. I dragged myself off the bed and to the kitchen.

I groaned again as soon I opened the cabinet. There was literally nothing but a small bag of flour and a bottle of peanut butter. The refrigerator held only a carton of milk.

Peanut butter would have to do the job for now. Normally, I didn't like to eat it by itself. It was too dry without jelly and bread or celery but at least it would sate me longer than usual.

I leaned back on the counter, licking peanut butter right out of the cup with a finger. The lights flickered for the tenth time. My gaze flickered up at the ceiling in annoyance. To my dismay, I found a big black spider up there.

I almost dropped the bottle as I let out a strangled sound. Jesus, this day is just getting better and better. I was sleep deprived, exhausted, and stressed. I worked until almost dead, the lights isn't working, I was hungry and now as icing on the cake, there's a goddamn big ass spider to welcome me home.