Grow Up

One

Walking to the beat of her own rhythm, went the girl who goes on life unnoticed. She'd no family; a homeless orphan. She lived on the streets for the most part, having ran away from foster care about four years ago. Her life wasn't the easiest, but it could always be worse.

She went by the name of Gardenia. Gardenia Asteriae Bellis. It was the beautiful name her parents blessed her with, despite never being the biggest fan of it.

The girl, wearing a burgundy tank top, black pleather jacket, dark blue skinnies, and worn out Vans, wandered the streets with ease. She pick-pocketed things from people's back pockets, front pockets, and even their shirt pockets. She became a professional at it. As people walked by her, she would skillfully slide her hand into their back or front pockets, seeing something poking out of them. Other times, the delinquent would purposely bump into people, quickly apologizing as she slipped her hand into their shirt pocket.

Some would be amazed at what she's collected from all her winnings. The girl had found many interesting things. Cell phones, money, and pens. The usual things you'd probably find. But she also found some jewelry, small makeup containers, drugs, condoms, sunglasses, folded up letters, lighters and cigarettes. Never had she been caught though.

Usually, this girl sold the things she found. She'd sell the phones, jewelry, drugs, sunglasses, and just about anything she gathered from people's pockets. It was her source of receiving money. Her way of making a living so she could buy herself a new pair of shoes or a new shirt when necessary; food or even personal hygiene products when the time came.

"Oh my goodness, I am so sorry," her sweet voice chimed in and out through the stranger's ears as she bumped into him.

"Don't worry about it," the man said kindly back to her. Little did he know, she took his earbuds that were dangling from his front pants pocket. A nasty little smirk played on her lips as she continued walking the opposite direction of him.

She ruffled her auburn hair, walking right into a little diner. Although this girl was a pick-pocket and thief, she always paid for her food. She would never steal from stores, or dine 'N' dash, having the fear of getting caught. Also, she couldn't bring herself up to legitimately steal things from an actual store. It was more fun with people on the streets, anyway.

"What can I get for you, sweetheart?" The waitress asked, a gentle smile on her face.

"Can I please have the tomato basil soup and raspberry iced tea?"

"Any appetizers?"

"Mozzarella sticks, please." A small but kind grin rested on her mouth.

The waitress jotted down her order, leaving shortly after. The girl leaned back in her booth, glancing at all the people around her. Small children squealed and howled with laughter. Parents ate and talked and mingled. Friends sat across from one another, talking about that movie they just got done seeing. It brought a saddening feeling to the teenager. She didn't have a family. Hadn't since she was nine years old after a terrible accident. She didn't have friends either. Not going to school and not having a family and being a runaway, she only had herself. But she quickly brushed it off. Being alone was better than having someone who can turn on you in an instant.

The waitress came back with her drink.