HOMEWRECKER {18+}

22

O L I V I A

Did you know the first thing I ever stole was a pad from a convenience store in a shabby alley?

Back then, I had just run away from the foster home, not wanting to be sold when I turned sixteen.

I wasn't a child anymore, but a teenager dealing with her period, often using toilet paper to prevent bleeding through my pants.

Back then, I only had two pairs back then: jeans and sweatpants.

In that desperate moment, I was bleeding heavily through my only pair of jeans, which I had washed in public bathrooms at night.

My sweatpants were already stained from previous periods, the marks refusing to wash out no matter how many times I tried.

Washing my clothes in public restrooms was humiliating, especially with the nasty looks people gave me.

But as a sixteen-year-old girl trying to survive, I had to swallow my pride and ego.

So, when I stole the pads, I made sure the convenience store was crowded, as it usually was at night.

I pretended to browse until I reached the health section, then quickly hid the pads under my jacket.

But first times are always tricky because someone noticed me stealing them.

"We have a thief on the loose," A guy grabbed the girl by the collar of her jacket as the period pads fell into the floor, revealing the stolen item.

The guy lowered his eyes at the item the girl had tried stealing, and laughed at it.

"Are you for real?" He laughed, letting go of the teenage girl who felt her knees give in as she fell on the floor.

"Who steals those kinds of things? Don't you have parents to buy you this stuff?" He was another person mocking her as the girl looked up at him, terrified of the situation.

If they brought her to the police, it would be over for the girl because her mother had pronounced her as dead and if they went to the cops, they find out she's still alive.

Her mother could show up, make her life another living hell all over again by selling her off.

She was frightened by her own mother.

"Please," The girl whispered with wide eyes, staring at the person who was making fun of her.

The girl didn't even think of the possibility of being assaulted or raped, because seeing her mother again would make the girl kill herself.

She would rather die than see her mother again.

"Please, won't work-" The guy got interrupted by another person at the entrance of the store.

"What's going on here?" An elderly man, probably around his late fifties, held a box in his arms while looking at the situation at hand.

He was large and well-built, not somebody to be messed with in a fight.

The guy snickered, glaring down at the girl."She stole from you."

"She stole from me?" The man narrowed his eyes, placing the box down on the floor as the people in the store were intriguingly watching the drama unfolding.

For the girl it was not drama, for her, it was about survival.

"What did she steal?" The elder man seemed pissed at someone coming and robbing his store.