The world seems fuzzy as Adalina impatiently pulls my sleeve to get me to hurry back home. Well, it's hardly a home. To most people it's just another side of the highway in LA.
But to us, it's home.
"Come on, Protea, hurry! I'm starving! I bet Saif just finished making the tomato soup! You know it's my favorite!"
I laugh. Adalina ate less than 10 minutes ago. Though, I can feel my own stomach grumbling.
"Ok, ok!" I say with a giggle.
"We're still pretty far though. How was your day at school?" I ask curiously while trying to get a distraction from the burning LA sun as we walk the rest of the way home.
"It was fine at first. But then when I was getting my lunch, Owen decided to pull a ding-dong-ditch on me."
"What does that even mean?" I asked, not understanding the new 4th-grade slang.
"Uhh, Protea. I explained it before. You slap your target's forehead twice while saying ding-dong." Adalina explained semi-patiently.
"Ok...?" I asked, knowing there was more.
"And then you yank the person's braid. And run away... Thanks for braiding my hair by the way." Adalina said sarcastically.
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I thought that Adalina's hair was beautiful since the moment I saw her. I remember how she looked so alone and abandoned next to the local food bank.
I was going to receive some food, when I saw a little girl with dark brown hair hiding behind one of the bins filled with sparkly silver cans with colorful labels. I was fascinated by her flowing hair that just reached her bony shoulders.
Her watchful dark eyes carefully observing for a chance to strike.
Her quick hands took two of the bright cans.
I looked around the place and watched people smiling and laughing, handing out cans to people that need a lot less than this little girl.
"Hey, I'm Protea."
She looked at me startled. Maybe I should have started the conversation differently. Her eyes went wide and she prepared to run.
"Wait, no. I'm sorry. I just want to help you." She looked confused. Not moving. But not running either.
"Where are your parents?" I asked, hoping for some explanation.
She started sobbing. And even worse, she started running.
I ran after her. I can't just leave her alone. From that response to the question of her parents, I knew right away that she did not have any.
We ran for blocks. Past nice houses with perfect front yards and past broken buildings with shattered windows. We ran and ran as the gloomy day slowly got gloomier.
Finally we turned a corner and I found myself at home.
She ran past the blank faces staring at us running, and right into a box. Though it was not just a random box. It was decorated with random pink fabric and plastic that had mostly likely been found in a dumpster. It was tiny, but big enough for her to sit comfortably in. This must be her home.
"I didn't know you lived here," I said panting after the long run.
"Please leave me alone. I just wanted some food. Please. I only took two. They have millions!" I heard the little girl say through muffled sounds coming from inside the decorated box.
YOU ARE READING
What They Didn't Tell Us
Science FictionHighest Ranks: #64 in Government and #23 in Carcrash Sometimes you have to take a leap. Jump over that gaping hole of uncertainty. Or maybe get thrown into the hole. This hole represents the problems people are facing. A virus no one knows informati...