Redemancy

26.

Amara

TW: rape

7 years earlier

"Thank you Derek! See you tomorrow!" I excitedly say as I walk out of the diner, a paper bag in my hand with a delicious doughnut.

I love Derek's doughnuts, I love all sweets in general, but Derek always puts extra sprinkles on my doughnut.

It does give me a tummy ache sometimes, but it's worth it.

I like Derek. Derek is very nice to me. He owns a small diner called 'Blue Lemon', which is a weird name since lemons aren't blue, they're yellow.

At least, I've never seen a blue lemon.

Pink lemons would be really cool.

I come to Derek's after school almost every day, I have been for a little longer than two years now.

Our first encounter was very funny, Derek thought I was stealing from him, but I just wanted to give a doughnut and an iced tea to homeless Betsy.

Derek doesn't like homeless Betsy and says she once spit on the door handle of the diner, but homeless Betsy would never do that.

Derek is a little older than me. And by a little, I mean sixty. He's not very happy with his age, but I am, he's like a grandfather to me.

I skip on the pretty coloured streets back to the trailer park, giving homeless Betsy one of my doughnuts like I do every day.

Homeless Betsie is so nice, I wish she didn't have to live on the streets.

The sky turns dark, the blue lights fading, and I decide to walk a little faster.

I hate the dark. The dark is so scary. Everything turns bad when the dark comes around.

Passing the woods just before the trailer park, I take a bit out of one of the doughnuts, the pink one with extra sprinkles.

I walk onto the trailer park and pass a few kids my age, looking down as I do so.

The kids here aren't very nice to me. I try to talk to them daily, but they always laugh at me.

Once, they threw me in the mud after I tried to offer them my doughnuts. They threw me in the mud and took away my delicious doughnuts.

I don't talk to them anymore, I know better now. I smelled for weeks, I hate being smelly. No more mud for me.

I miss my mom and dad so much sometimes. I've once even stolen Patrick's Samsung and looked their names up on google.

I thought google knew everything, but it appears that they don't at all.

I have asked Patrick a lot of times to tell me about them, and where they could be, but he refused, saying the orphanage denied information.

The only thing I have left of them, of my childhood, is my teddy, Mr Toodles.

I walk up to my trailer, opening the small door as I walk up the two steps, and closing the door behind me.