edited: 6/1/15
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"You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think."
-Winnie the Pooh
OLIVIA'S POV
We never really had much money. We were able to afford the necessities such as food, water, and shelter. It wasn't bad, we had a warm bed to sleep in every night, well a mattress that I shared with my sister, Lyla, but we were only seven, so it wasn't like we took up a whole lot of space.
We lived in a studio apartment with our mom. We had a dad, at one point. Mom said he went to work with the bobbies and couldn't come home, but I knew enough to realize that bobbies sit in the front of the car and don't wear handcuffs around their wrists. I don't know what he did, but he was always either ridiculously silly or furiously angry. Mom told me it was this energy juice that he drank, but energy juice doesn't make you fall over when you've had too much of it.
She was just trying to protect us, and I let her, even though I was old enough to figure it out. She did so much for us, always working late to put food in our stomachs. She also had the duty of educating us, we knew our alphabet, and our addition and she also taught us one day how to pick a lock. She was always so overwhelmed about money and work, so we never really talked to her because we knew she needed rest and never wanted to hear what we had to say.
One Christmas, she told us we could each pick out one Barbie as presents. I chose a long-haired blonde doll who came with an emerald green dress and matching high heels. Lyla picked a less-extravagant one, with dark brown curly hair, wearing simple jeans and a pink Barbie T-shirt. We loved those dolls so much, we made cardboard-box houses for them and brought them everywhere. One day, when we found a paper clip, I said I wanted to use it as her necklace, but Lyla wanted it for her doll as a crown. We were wrestling over it as mom burst through the front door.
"Uhhhh, I am so tired and fed up with everyone!" she yelled whilst closing the door behind her, but Lyla and I were focused on the accessory.
"Mom! I got the necklace first, but Lyla won't give it back to me!"
"Let go!" Lyla yelled pulling the thin piece of metal. We were on the floor just wrestling over the dolls, as I heard a loud thud as mom threw her purse at the ground.
"You girls don't even appreciate how much I work my ass off for you! You don't deserve those stupid dolls! I do! I'm the one working till two in the morning and I don't appreciate coming home to you two fighting! Everyday it's the same dilemma! I never signed up for this! I just need a break!" And with that she picked up her purse and walked out the door without another word.
We were used to mom having small meltdowns every once in awhile, which was bound to happen with a single mother barely getting by with two little girls, but something told me this wasn't one of those small meltdowns.
We picked ourselves up from the floor and looked through the window to see mom's car pulling away.
"We should let her calm down. Let's just keep playing," Lyla said gesturing to the dolls.
"I don't know. We still haven't had dinner and she seemed pretty upset, but she'll come back." I walked into the kitchen to look for food, I pulled two of Marie Calendar's chicken pot pies from the freezer and stuck them in the microwave. Once we finished eating we went straight to bed.
It's been three days since mom left. I've really started thinking she wasn't going to come back, but she has to, right? She couldn't just leave. We were still here. We're running out of the chicken pot pies and we don't have money to get more, nor do we know how to get more. It turns out, Lyla is thinking the same thing, because she is stuffing all our things into two backpacks.
"What are you doing?" I ask her.
"We can't just stay here and wait for us to starve, let's go find her," she replies as if it is obvious. I want to tell her she was crazy, but I was thinking the exact same thing, so I grab one of the bags and we head out.
It's late, but we aren't tired, we don't know where we're going, but we are finding our way. My mind drifts off...
"This isn't my responsibility!" Dad screamed at mom, pointing to his hand that was holding me off the ground by the collar of my shirt.
"It's not my fault!" Mom yelled back. I was terrified, I didn't even listen to what they were saying all I could do was pray that he wouldn't throw me, he hadn't yet, but he was a bomb, and it didn't tell you how long until it blows, so you're always on your toes.
"I can't deal with this!" He tossed me to the couch. "I'm goin' to the bar."
"Don't you run away from this! Are you just gonna walk?!" she yelled back.
"No! I've got a car!" He gestured to the keys of our old rusted sedan that were jingling in his hand.
"You're drunk! You can't drive!"
"Watch me!" And with that, he slammed the door behind him.
"I'm cold!" Lyla complains, as I snap out of my flashback. It's lightly drizzling and it is quite frosty outside.
"Get the extra jacket out then." As she reaches into my bag, we pass the familiar 7-11. I look into the street as many cars pass us by, most don't even notice us, others look at us curiously, but keep driving. Then, out of nowhere a black van pulls up right beside us.
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AN: Thanks for reading the first chapter!! Stay with us!!
Xoxo, rain and autumn
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