Eliza
Eliza sat on the cold, damp city pavement in the same spot that she always sat. It was raining, the chilling droplets rolling from the sky in to her ghost town of a money pot; her old torn sleeping bag was laced with fleas from her starved whippet. "No such luck finding your owner yet Sam, guess that you'll have to stay here with me, not that that is any better than roaming the streets." She sighed
Her hair was tied up with a ratty hair tie that she had found in a puddle outside the train station, it was like an abandoned birds nest, hair fraying out in all directions in an untidy fashion. Bathing was a long gone luxury that was barely even a memory. The nails that were bound to her body by scrawny little fingers, had dirt permanently secured under them.
Eliza held a rotting apple core that had been sitting on the dirty city pavement for days and began to gnaw at it, attempting to get even the smallest of nutrition out of it. "I suddenly don't fell so hungry." She tried say while exerting a pool of vomit on the pavement, the sickness over whelmed her. She got up and snatched at her money pot. "....*sigh* nothing again, I suppose that tomorrow we might have better luck." She frowned; her positivity was killing her, poisoning her mind with thoughts of a better life, with thoughts of the past.
She leaned back on her beaten pillow, her body shivering in the icy breeze, her eyes falling shut in one swift movement. At that moment a single salty tear ran down the side of her face. She fell deeper into sleep, indefinitely. In this moment she found peace, the struggle was all but left behind. The shuffle of footsteps engulfed her limp, lifeless body.
No one stopped, no one cried, no one cared.
The strangers passing her giving her momentary glances of disgust, her body lying lifeless almost as if she was a ragdoll, the shuffle of feet consumed her as she laid with her eyes closed staring into the black abyss.
When you die, your mind has 7 more minutes of activity, this 7 minutes is your mind playing all of your memories in a dream sequence. As my mind played my short 16 years of my life back like a silent film, all I could see was what had led her up to this one moment, to this one place in time, to my death. To truly grasp my story I think that we should start from the beginning, to where all of this ugly mess started, back to when I had a home, a family, a life.
My step father was the kind of man that would have thrown rocks at children, I never saw him throw any but that's what I imagine he was like. My mother was the kind of woman that's eyes would suck out your soul. I never liked them, they had smelly breath and didn't own deodorant. My mother had married a man with zero class, zero understanding, zero patients and a ton of money. He used to tell me when my mother (who I might add was just as bad) left the room that I was worthless. My mother was no better, and even though she was like the devil, I still had memories of her being a loving mother, before my real dad died in a freak accident.
Every story nowadays has to have a love story dosent it? Mine was Josh, he used to tell me that I was his shinning light in a world of eternal darkness pretty predicdible right? 2 depressed kids dreaming of a better life, well trust me this isn't what this story is by any means. By anyother definition he loved me, and it wouldn't take Sherlock holmes to figure out I felt the same. His love consumed me, it lifted me out of my darkest times. He spoke to me as if I was the only person in his world. I know that I was probably to young to feel this way about a some one but I did I really, really did.
In November he asked me to go to sydney for a few weeks with his his family, they had an awesome appartment there, in the middle of all the action. He told me he had planned for us to go to my very first broadwway show. and of course I had to respectfully decline because my parents sucked and wouldn't let me spend any time with my perspective future husband, they never liked him and I could never understand why he was charming, with his accent (he was American), his cadbray coloured hair, sunkissed skin and polit attidude. I always tried to find ways to bring him up in conversation around my parents so they would understand how kind he was, I mean he saved a cat from drowning for christs sake. "I cant come my parents are being jerks as usual" I told him on our daily skype call "but I need to see you before I leave" he gave me a diserning look that he only gives when he is sad. "ELI get down here.......NOW!!" my mother screeched. "I gotta go" I whispered as I signed off as quickly as I could, I couldn't have my parents thinking that I was talking to him when i was in a strict no josh zone.
I bolted down the stairs and burst open the kitchen door, braking 3 wine glasses in the process. *cringe* "ill buy more mum..." I gave an apologetic sigh, she just stared at me with a blank distant look. "have you been crying? why is your eye so swolen? what did he do mum?" i yelled shaking her, she looked away "so bill told me that josh came over the other day and asked if you could go on holidays with his family, I thought I told you not to hang out with him eli?" she gave me that disappointing look that I feel like she has mastered over the years, im sure that you know the one, eye brows raised, lips pursed and that shameful tut tut that comes from the side of the mouth. "yeah i know mum, but he's such a great guy and i promise i wouldn't even be staying in the same room as him. his parents have major connections to art galleries, this could be my shot to get into the crowed." i exclaimed ad i squeezed her arm with joy. *slap* she struck me across my face making my lip bleed in the process. "THATS ENOUGH, Josh is a menis, if you bring him, or his stupid vacation up one more time, christ, i don't know what the hell me and your father will do." she shrieked at me while gesturing at andrew to come back her up. " ANDREW IS NOT MY DAD , AND YOU ARE A SHELL OF MY ONCE LOVING MOTHER. after dad died we you were sad or at least i thought we were, i know i was. But as soon as you had the chance you married for money not love, dad would hate you for what you have done to us, to yourself.....and you, you lazy deadbeat, just because you are rich does not entitle you to anything especially us, i know what you do to her, i know that you made her a pathetic shell of who she once was. you ruined us." i cried out, running up the stares to slam my door behind me in a dramatic way that i had seen many time in antsy teenage dramas.
but before i could make it to my room i felt someone grab me and pull me down from the 5th stair throwing me on the floor in the process, i look up to see andrew kicking my side over and over. "andrew she gets it, thats enough." mum yelled out to him, but he didn't stop, he continued kicking me, lifting me up from the ground by my collar and throwing me back down onto the 1st stair, making sure the back of my head hit it repeatidly. "andrew please, I'm sure she understands what she has done, please stop this.....your killing her!" she was screeching now, but it was as if her constant begging was aggravating him more, causing him to hit and beat me twice as hard. suddenly he turned and punched her in her right eye, she fell to the floor , her nose now gushing with blood. everything went quiet, she looked up at him, her eyes became glassy and distant once again. "do you want pie or soup for dinner andrew?" she whimpered glancing at me, i could hardly breath, my mouth tasted as if you had given me a metal lollie and made me suck on it for hours, even leaving my touge with a red colouring. "mum please" i tried managed to whisper even though it felt like hell. "ELIZA get up you lazy thing, do you not have homework? get up and stop fusing around!" she yelled pulling Andrew into the kitchen.
I maneged to pull myself from the floor and hobble up the stairs to my room, i could here my 'parents' kissing "I love you more than i have ever loved anyone" i heard my mother whisper to Andrew as i slowly closed my door and laid on my bed.
