Fancy's Not My Name

It's A Hard Knock Life

She hollered a tired goodbye over her shoulder as she pushed the diner's door open. Her coworkers gave various responses as the seventeen-year-old left the building. Dottie stepped out of Marie's and heaved a sigh.

She took a moment to watch the late-night activity of New Orleans before turning and walking down the street. She pulled her threadbare blue cardigan tighter over her shoulders as she made her way home for the night. Her black too-small shoes made small pattering sounds as she walked.

Dottie sighed when she caught sight of her white stocking clad toe peeking out from the end of her shoe. She'd had those shoes since she was thirteen and hadn't owned another pair since. She could feel the light breeze blowing through a hole somewhere in her sweater. She'd have to sew it again when she got home.

As Dottie walked she kept her eyes on the ground and tried to ignore the stares thrown her way. She knew she didn't belong on this side of town. She didn't need the constant reminders people gave her. She knew her clothes weren't as nice as theirs. She knew that she wasn't as smart as most people.

That's what people didn't seem to understand. She knew she wasn't as good as them. And she knew she never would be. Dottie walked with her head down. The breeze blew her hair into her face and raised goose bumps on her skin. She reached a slender finger up to tuck her wild hair behind her ear.

Marie's had been busy today, and most of her strawberry blonde hair had escaped the bun she'd twisted it into that morning.

She grew more alert as she entered the poorer side of town. Although the people there knew her name, that wouldn't stop them from trying to nab her purse and make away with the few tips she received. It was never much.

A few dollars given to her throughout the day by pitying customers. Everyone in town knew who she was. Her and her family were some of the most talked about people in New Orleans. Some of the gossip was mean, some of it not. But Dottie ignored all of it. She didn't want to hear the things people said about Mama or Pa.

She definitely didn't want to know what people were saying about her. But no matter how hard she tried, things still reached her ears.

As she passed a rundown house with a broken front window, a small girl waved at her from the porch. Her name was Mona. Dottie used to babysit her when she was younger. She was let go though because the girl's parents couldn't afford to pay her anymore. Dottie offered to work for free, but she knew her family needed the money she was bringing home.

She still saw Mona every once in a while. Though now her parents don't like their daughter associating with her. Not a moment later Mona's father stepped out the battered wooden door and Dottie turned her head.

It pained her to ignore the little girl. She's the closest thing to a friend Dottie's ever had apart from her mom. She could feel his eyes burning into her back as she walked further away from the house. It was no secret that everyone disapproved of Dottie and her family. Even the people in a similar situation consider them to be lower than dirt. And she supposed they were right.

She couldn't deny that. She just wished they were better at keeping their opinions to themselves.

Dottie breathed a sad sigh as she crossed the last paved road on her journey home. Small dust clouds erupted from under her feet as she walked along the dirt road.

She listened to the calming sound of the wind blowing through the trees and the long unkempt grass on either side of the road.

The teen followed the winding stretch of dirt until she came across a worn out path in the grass to the left. She turned off the road and walked down the familiar dark path that served as her walkway home. Her right hand reached out to brush through the hay and wild flowers she knew so well.

The path ended just after a large oak tree. Dottie's tired legs carried her toward the small shack with peeling white paint a few feet into the field at the end of the treeline. There was a small light coming from one of the windows and she knew her mother was still awake.

She pushed the front door open slowly to stop it from making any noise.

"Hi, Mama."Dottie whispered to the woman sitting in a rocking chair.

"Hi, baby." Her mother sent her a soft smile as she watched her daughter get ready for bed.

Once changed Dottie crossed the room and stood in front of her mother, her arms reached out. A baby, Dottie's little brother was placed gently in her arms so her mother could stand up from her seat.

She returned the boy to her mother's waiting arms with a light kiss to the cheek.

"I've told you not to wait up for me." The girl scolded her mother quietly.

"I know, sweetheart. I just worry when you walk home alone this late, that's all."

Dottie smiled at her mother's words. Dottie's family wasn't rich. Hell they weren't even poor. They were worse than that. For as long as Dottie could remember her family had lived in this small one room house. Her Pa was working, at least when she was younger. But her mother hadn't had a job since they got married.

As soon as Dottie was able she was out looking for a job. Her father had lost his a few months after she turned fifteen. One of the men he'd worked with had called his wife a tramp. And Dottie's father's temper had never been the best.

Her Pa nearly killed the man, and his boss wouldn't keep him after that. So now it was up to their seventeen-year-old daughter to earn enough for food and rent. She was barely able to afford both, especially now that they were a family of four.

"You get to sleep now, Mama. I'll be here in the morning to make you a nice breakfast." Dottie guided her mother around the side of the bed she shared with her husband and son.

She held the baby as her mother got comfortable before setting him down beside her.

"Goodnight, Mama." She kissed her mother's forehead and then her brother's.

"Goodnight, baby." Dottie crossed the room and drew the curtain separating the beds.

She blew out the candle on her bedside table as she pulled the thin and moth-eaten blanket up to her chin.

She could feel a draft seeping through the wall under the window. Her small bed squeaked as she moved, the old springs protesting her movements.

As Dottie stared at the ceiling she imagined the day she got out of that dingy old shack. She would live in a nice house. A big one with a proper yard and a nice white fence. She'd have a proper kitchen, and her own bedroom. The bathroom would be inside the house. And Mama would be there too. Along with Pa and little Tommy.

It would be perfect. They would be happy and healthy and they could do whatever they wanted. Someday, she promised herself.

Someday soon.