Lilly

Chapter 3

Lilly took a few weeks to see the world again. Somewhere in the haze, she thought she went to a funeral for her mother, not that it was much of a funeral. There might have been people offering words of encouragement or sympathy. She didn't remember much, not even whether they cremated or buried her mother. None of it mattered. She wasn't even sure if Sarah and her family had been there.

Her new foster family had paid no real attention to her through it all. They made sure she ate and drank, at least a couple times a day. Beyond those chores, she was like a dog, or a plant, to them. She was a thing they had to care for, but otherwise unimportant.

There was a girl in the room with her, who had a bed, rather than a floor pallet like Lilly had. She tried to engage Lilly a few times, but Lilly never replied, and didn't even notice her. The girl was older, and her speech was different. Like many girls of latino descent, she was a little thicker, but not fat...no, not fat.

When Lilly emerged from the fog of her grief, she looked around the room she slept in. She was lying on her pallet in the corner. Yeah, she knew what was going on, remembered the people, and what had happened, but it was a weird, dreamy kind of remembering. It was very much like a dream, or maybe a nightmare.

Someone had stacked her few belongings to the side. She grabbed the small box, and stuffed it in her backpack, as her roommate watched her with mild interest.

"Where you be goin?" Lilly knew the girl asked because she had left the room only to go to school and get food since coming there. Lilly looked at her, then turned toward the door.

"Ain't you gonna answer?"

"Away."

"You know, you been had somefin' bad happen, but all us foster kids have. I got a real family dat can take care o' you." Lilly darted a quick glance back at her, but walked out with no further response.

Walking out of the house, the foster family watched her go, as if she'd grown an extra arm, or maybe two. Outside, their dog came to greet her, wagging its tail, and looked at her like she was the world's savior.

"Hey Ralph," she said, and pet the dog with enthusiasm. He was the one member of the family that cared about her. They didn't give him much attention, kind of like they didn't give her any attention. Both had become close, in a short time, despite her disconnection from the world. He was something solid her mind could grab onto.

It seemed as if she could feel his love for her, such as a dog could feel love. She knew it was because she was so alone, more alone than she'd ever been before. It was an odd thought, and one she dismissed with little real concern. He was a dog, and she was a person.

There was a park nearby, but not a kids type of park. There was no play equipment, no toys, but there were plenty of paths through the trees. She wanted to be alone, so it was what she longed for, its solitude.

Meandering through the tree lined paths, she paid no attention to anything. At some point, she ended up in an area where there used to be a building. Remaining were two concrete walls holding the earth back, and a broken concrete square, which had been the floor. It was off the trail, and very isolated, which was what she wanted.

An older man was sitting on the ground, and looked up at her when she walked into the small clearing. He had a small fire, and was holding a pot over it.

"Come take a sit," he offered. She thought he sounded drunk, or maybe just crazy. Like she cared, either way.

"I shouldn't."

"Smart, girl."

As she was about to turn around, a scraggly little dog walked into the clearing. He sniffed around a moment, then went to the old man, wagging his tail. The man rewarded the dog with a friendly petting, which was what he'd wanted. After a moment, he repeated the process with her. When her hand brushed him, she felt his trust, and she could tell it was for both herself and the homeless man. She trusted the homeless man, a lot more than she trusted her 'family', but she didn't understand why.