Back To December

{ Chapter 6 }

Coming back to my previous life and the effects it has doesn't phase me anymore. Of course, I'm used to it. All the neglect, the hate, the bullying, pushing me around, abuse.... the list goes on. As the passing cars come to a near stop, beeping their horns, rolling down the windows shouting, "Get off the sidewalk!" or "Get out! Nobody wants you here!" To dampen the mood, my pace slows as I hang my head low, staring at the small cracks in the pavements while drops of rain patter on the grounds around me. I reluctantly lift my head in agony. Watchers shift their gaze to me, from head to toe. I know my outfit is raggedy, ripped up. What else would you except? I don't have money for new clothes. I don't have money for anything. But I have found an interest in black. Black jeans, black leather jackets, black boots. I even dyed my hair a matte black a few years ago, but the pigment is starting to fade. Now my hair has faint streaks of blonde, clashing against my dark theme, sure to attract unwanted attention. My father always told me, "Once you go black, you never go back." Those words stuck with me ever since.

I trudge down the street as eyes follow my every move. The gasps of people put me on edge. I have to get out of here. But there's no place to go. My home has been on the market for years. Someone must have bought it buy now. Either way, I'm not going back there. I quicken my pace along the cracked sidewalk past the onlookers, closing shops as the rain ours heavier on me. Everything is soaked to my hair down to my feet. Chills run up my spine. The December winter is too harsh and if I don't get inside soon, I'll be its next victim.

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Once I hit the sidewalks end, two paths cross my vision. Both contain villages with houses and your everyday necessities. It's already so late, and I'm freezing to death. Cold winds brush against me, whatever warmth I had left swept away into the chilling air. The rain has now turned to a heavy snow which builds up at my feet. Shaking, I hurry across the snow piled pavement to the nearest house, still lit up. It outshines every other house in the neighborhood, nearly blinding. This is it. Although it's dark out and no one can see me in my black clothing, I sneak up alongside the house and crouch as low as I can to avoid any detection. The window above me is closed but illuminates a yellow glow. A bedroom. They must still be up. I can't see my watch, no matter how hard I squint and the stars nearly brighten up the surrounding sky to see their position. Voices echo closely, forcing me to speed up around the front, up the stone stairs. I'm inches away from the doorbell, ready to press it and accept whatever comes after. DING! I'm still shaking as the cold grows harsher. My hands, feet and face is numb, and my raspy voice is barely audible. I haven't drank anything since the hospital but my dehydration has kicked in. The door slowly opens, revealing a face I cannot clearly see.

What sounds like a woman asks, "Who are you?"

"M-My name is D-Daria," I shiver intensely.

"What are you doing out here this time of night?"

"I need a place to stay. My parents are in jail and I've been on the streets. Can you please help me?" A tear manages to slip down my cheek.

"Mom who's that?" asks another voice. A boy appears next to his mom and looks at me, flabbergasted.

"This girl's been on the street and she's asking to stay here."

The boy motions to me, "She looks harmless mom. Just let her in, she can't be outside in this weather."

"Can we have a talk about this?" the mother whispers.

"Come in," smiles the boy.

The mom just agrees and opens the door. I step into the warm hallway and release a breath I didn't realize I was holding. Family members inundate me amongst my entrance.

"Who's this?" questions the father. Grandparents shuffle over to me with dropped jaws.

"Everyone, this is Daria. She'll be staying with us for a little while...." the mother forces a smile. "Come on dear lets get you all cleaned up."

She takes my arm gently and leads me upstairs to the bathroom and switches on the light. My eyes squint in reflex.

"Hm, not used to it?" she asks sweetly.

I sigh. "You have no idea."

Pulling out a drawer with washcloths, she picks a white one and rinses it with warm water.

"So how old are you?"

"Seventeen," I choke out. "I've been on and off the streets since I was 9."

"That's terrible. What happened to your parents?"

I hesitate to answer. "My mom was a drug addict and my dad was an alcoholic. One is in jail and the other is God knows where."

She gasps and releases her breath, turning to face me with the rag in her hand. She touches my face and wipes off the dirt that's been there for a few days. I haven't showered in a while either, embarrassed to be near anyone like this.

"Well honey there are towels in these drawers. You can hop in the shower if you'd like. Let me show you your room."

I flash a smile and follow her through a darkened hallway and past a few other rooms, at least three others, to mine. She flicks on the light and reveals brand new modern furniture, a neatly made bed, a desk, a walk-in-closet and the perfect shade of light grey to finish it all off. It's perfect.

She chuckles, "You like?"

I step inside. "It's amazing. Everything reminds me of...... never mind."

"Kitchen's downstairs, help yourself to anything."

I turn to her. "Thank you."

She grins and quietly leaves. Everything I ever wanted is right here. Nice family, nice house, nice location, and even better, a place I could soon call my home.