Dirt Poor

SIXTEEN - Friends

I have good news and I have bad news.

Good news: I will most likely be updating twice today (maybe tomorrow but no guarantees)

Bad news: I don't know when I will update next after tomorrow. I hope I can continue to post regularly, but I am not sure.

Enjoy! :)

I had looked at Kaya's face in the aftermath of my hesitation to hang out with her. Even though I conceded to her request of getting together, her face still showed memories of something I wasn't privy to, of something that haunted her features before tamping it down and placing her face back into her natural state.

"Sorry," I started, "I just don't really have any friends, so..." I trailed off, not even sure of how to continue or what to say. I was hoping that would be enough to help her understand. I didn't know how to be friends with people because being friends with others always led to questions about home and I couldn't answer them.

Either I came off as rude for not answering their questions or I had to make up lies to avoid them asking more questions and I didn't like either of those options.

I must've said something right because a small smile spread across her face, "I don't either."

Whatever it was that I thought she was going to say, it wasn't that. How did she not have any friends? I know that I barely knew her, so maybe there was a valid reason why she didn't have any, but through the brief interactions with her, she has been kind, laid back, funny at times-it just didn't seem like she would be a person to struggle making and maintaining friendships. That should have already put me on guard around her, but nothing in my gut screaming at me to, so I didn't.

Kaya gave me her number and I said I would text her, and I would, but I couldn't do that until I figured out how many minutes I still had. With having to text both Vance and Syre these last couple of weeks due to the project, I wasn't sure how many I had, and I always left some for emergencies.

Kaya had offered me a lift home, but I politely declined. I didn't need nor want anyone to know where I lived. It wasn't that I was embarrassed per se, but it didn't sit right with me for any of them to have that information. I wouldn't want them to have to come into this neighborhood. It wasn't the greatest. I knew that. And I don't think I could live with myself if something happened to tiny Kaya. Even though through malnutrition my growth was stunted it was easy to tell that Kaya was just a smaller person for her age. I knew there was still time for her, but she was short and slender.

One could tell by looking at her that she wasn't the best at defending herself and there were plenty of individuals in this neighborhood that wouldn't think twice about harming anyone. Not that I was one to talk. I didn't defend myself much either, but it wasn't always in my control and I was willing to sacrifice parts of my safety for a better future.

I had to get out of here.

I knew it did. I knew that if I didn't get out of this place that I would not make it to see the age of 25 and for a myriad of reasons.

That thought settled into my bones and made me shiver as I walked through the trailer park closer to home. It was relatively quiet with random dogs barking, and the hoot of a few owls at sporadic times, and even though traipsing through the trailer park at night could be a terrifying feat there was also something hauntingly beautiful, peaceful about it. Warm lights within a handful of trailers helped illuminate the dark fall night, and with the help of a few streetlights, the trailer park was cast in a dull orange.

Almost as if the world knew that I found a brief moment of peace and solitude and wanted to ruin it, Johnny's door flung open and he barreled down his steps with a cigarette hanging limply from his mouth, his oil stained hand gripping a black garbage bag.