People assume that Beca's lonely. They aren't wrong. Nobody knows where she goes at night. Home they presume? Home isn't an option to go to anymore.
Her mom believed in God, but she believed in meth more. She'd go on crazy binges, hit her daughter, get sober, apologize and repeat.
When she turned 18, she packed her bags, and drove hella fast from that shit hole. Now, the homeless shelter is her home, and the lost and found is her new best friend. She owned nothing, basically.
She roamed the streets after work, like a curious animal, except she knows her surroundings. She scrambles through the park when men try to jump her out at night. Again, she doesn't own anything.
Once, she met a woman there, who asked her if she carried a knife around, of course, she replied. And once she'd shown her, she said it wasn't big enough. Beca's screaming wasn't loud enough. Her kicks and punches weren't strong enough.
But if she wasn't good enough, how do you think she felt?
She stays awake, waiting for the small droplets of water to stop dripping from the faucet. For the wind to stop whistling through the cracks in her window, whispering, causing her to hear voices in her delusional little head.
She can never concentrate. These walls are paper thin, she thought, observing around. She can hear the drunk man coming home, ignoring all the possible questions from his wife when she asks him where he was, then dozing off on the couch. And the woman on the other side who talks in her sleep. She tells Beca to check on her every morning.
Once, she found her laying unconscious half way out the window, almost fallen and dead. She's usually unconscious anyway, with a bottle of whiskey near her reach, completely empty.
And when the noise gets too loud, and when the police knocks on her door at night, informing her about noise complaints being filled into lawsuits, she pretends she has walking pneumonia, which she does, but that's not my point.
She lives with woman with crowbars for backbones.
Maybe people forget what it's like, like they don't know what she's talking about, but this is work.
