Daddy's Girl

Ch. 1 Cold

Chapter 1
Cold

Emma
It is so cold. So, so cold. I have never been this cold before. On chilly nights in the past, my lady's maid, Arella, would build up the fire in my rooms so that it was always warm and toasty, perfect for a night of stories and marshmallows. I miss Arella. On nights of booming thunder or furious lightning, she would sing nursery rhymes. She never once made fun of me when I cried and took great pains to hide my coloring books and toys when Father visited. We never once spoke of her efforts but looking back, I'm positive she knew my secret. Of course that was over six months ago that I last saw the sweet aging woman, leaning against the butler, Octavian, as she wept, unable to stop them as my father threw me into the streets. I wonder if she misses me. If she still thinks about me at all.
I cuddle Pestilence closer, attempting to shield him from the worst of the sleet and rain. He is my best friend, my safest support and only remaining possession. Father tried to rip him from my hands when he discovered my secret that awful day but even then I did not let go, desperate to cling to the one stuffie who made the world feel small and safe. In the darkness he is nearly invisible, the black feathers of his body wet and damp beneath his plague doctor's hat, still bent from where I fell on him last week when an angry store manger refused to let me sleep on their front stoop. He is a plushie bird dressed as a plague doctor, his little lantern swinging from his attached little wing. In my head, he calls me "Little Mistress." I like that nickname.
A terrible gust of icy wind slams into my back and I whimper, tucking tighter against the grimy alley wall. Tears have frozen to my cheeks. "Is okay, Pesty" I whisper. My teeth chatter so hard the words are barely words at all. "We-we be safe s-soon." But it's a lie and we both know it. It has only grown colder since I became homeless and in the middle of a frozen January in New York, there is no hope it will get warmer before I freeze to death.
It's okay, Little Mistress, Pestilence tells me in my head. You don't have to be brave for me. But I do. If I'm not brave like a big girl, then we will both die out here.
Outside the alley, a furious cabbie screams at a pedestrian. Crowds and crowds of people hurry past but none stop to look at me. According to the flashing billboards overhead, it is nearly midnight.
I gasp as a painful cramp twists through my tummy, so sharp and startling I drop Pestilence to the ground. "Ow! Ow, ow, owww..." Fresh tears. Food. I need food. Nuggies and juice. But no dumpster will have anything so good. Anything not rotten will have already been stolen by the other homeless who share these streets. I wince as I touch the fresh bruise on the side of my cheek where a homeless man struck me last week for trying to forage through a trash can he said was his. But I founded it first!
I bend to pick up Pestilence, praying I will have the strength to stand back up. My head is all fuzzy and spiny and oh god I am so hungry.
I make my way out of the alley down the street, hobbling as I go. People shove me from all sides and I fight to stay calm, to not panic and cry at so many strangers. Even before Father kicked me out I hated crowds. State functions and charity balls and extravagant engagement parties- all beautiful nightmares with not a single stuffie or another little in sight. I think back to how I would make myself sick so I would not have to go and be big, so that I would not have to desperately struggle for no one to see my little side.
And it still didn't matter. Father found out anyway.
Sleet and rain sting my eyes as I try to look for a restaurant or bar, anything that may have a full trash or dumpster outside. Maybe I'll find some new clothes to keep me warm and sleep in the park again. Park benches and newspapers have kept me warm before-
Something hard slams into me from behind and I go flailing forward, striking the sidewalk hard. Pain radiates through my knee as it swells and I begin to cry as the man who ran into me begins to yell, screaming in my face about how he is so sick of greedy ass bums running into him and begging for his change.
"P-Please, Sirs, I did not means to-"
He grabs me by the front of my ruined sweater, once pink now a filthy stained brown and black. The crowds continue to pour around us. No one notices us and if they do they pretend otherwise. "I should teach you a lesson, you god-damn little greedy thief!"
I don't realize what he's doing until he has yanked Pesty from my arms. My little side finally loses its shit. "No! No, no, no, no! He's mine, he's mine!" Just like that I feel myself slip completely, instantly age-regressing to that of a small frightened child. I don't care that this man is big and scary and meany- all I care about is my stuffie! People around us have started staring now.
The man sneers. "Little freak. Too old for stuffed animals." He holds it high above my head as I continue to cry and wail. I can't lose Pesty, he's my bestest and only friend, I can't survive without Pesty-
Suddenly I am knocked off my feet. The air rushes from my lungs as I slam into the ground. My sobs become hyperventilating. "N-no!" They will take Pesty. They's will call the police and take me away- But then I look up.
The man who was yelling at me is now lying facedown on the sidewalk, a trail of red leaking from his big nose. His eyes are shut. Is he dead? Did I kills him somehow? Am I going to jail? Then I notice the man looming above him, red staining one of his clenched fists as he murmurs something in a fierce growl. He turns just in time to see me collapse to the ground, the world fading to black.

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Hi this is my first ddlg story please be kind 💛