Laura

Moving In

I looked around the small, dirty room, sighing heavily. It wasn't a penthouse in New York, but it was what we had. I carefully placed my daughter down, kissing her forehead before she ran off to explore the tiny apartment I was renting. It was one of the cheaper places in the small city, but it was what I could afford. After Haven's father passed away, everything changed. I walked into the kitchen, not surprised by what I saw. There was an old fridge, an old-fashioned stove and a few cupboards with broken handles. I sighed softly, walking over to the fridge and opening it, regretting it instantly. A horrific smell emerged from the fridge, clearly a welcome gift from the last tenant. I pinched my nose and reached in to grab the disgusting, old bottle of milk that had been left there for god knows how long. I quickly left the flat and ran out behind the building, throwing it into the nearest bin. I bent down by the bin, the urge to vomit overpowering. That was when I remembered that Haven was all alone in the flat. I ran back inside, a sigh of relief escaping my lips when I saw her sitting on the floor, playing with two of her dolls which her grandmother had made. I looked into the one box room that there was and I sighed, contemplating whether or not it had been a good idea to move away from my parents. They had been so good with Haven and when we lived with them, we weren't at risk of having rats eating us in the middle of the night. I shook the doubts out of my head, determined not to think like that. After all, it gave me a chance to prove to them that I could look after Haven on my own. Yes, it would be a struggle, but I'm pretty sure all parents struggled raising their kids. At least, their first kids. She was only five years old and so smart. She stood up and waddled over to me, her dark hair bouncing as she did. Her tanned skin reminded me so much of her father.
"Mama?" she asked gently, her big green eyes full of wonder. I smiled and picked her up, balancing her on my hip while I looked around the place.
"Yes, munchkin?" I replied, wondering if the oven even worked anymore.
"Why aren't we with bampa and nana?" she asked gently, clearly missing her grandparents already. I forced a smile and resisted the urge to cry right then and there.
"Well munchkin, mama thought that we needed a bit of a change. This time, you get your own room and we can paint it however you want, how about that?" I replied, attempting to distract her so that she didn't ask more questions. She practically jumped out of my arms, babbling on about how she liked purple, but she also loved pink and if she could have cat duvet covers. I nodded to just about every request, my mind on other things. The flat was tiny and I was honestly doubting my abilities to care for my daughter alone. But, I pushed those doubts away and whispered to myself "For Darren," before I picked up my phone to order pizza.

I carefully pulled the covers up to Haven's shoulders, smoothing them out and kissing her forehead.
"I love you munchkin," I said, before turning off the small lightbulb in her room. She started softly snoring and I smiled, relieved that she could at least sleep peacefully in that place. I walked into the other room and sighed, flopping down on my sofa bed. I stared up at the ceiling and wondered what Darren thought of me now, if he truly was in heaven. I never believed in heaven or god or angels or any of it, but Darren did. He wore a pure silver cross around his neck every day and he went to church every single Sunday. He wanted Haven to be baptized, but I argued with him for weeks about it. He often said that I would go to heaven, because he believed I was pure. I would always laugh and say that heaven didn't exist, but he never let my words faze him. I think that was one of the things I loved the most about him. No matter what anybody said, he always stuck by his beliefs. While he believed and had heaven and god to comfort him, I had memories of my older sister. Whenever I was in doubt, I would always think "What would Talia do?" and that always comforted me. It made me feel like she was there, helping me make decisions or get out of situations. I sighed deeply before I stood up. I shrugged on my black pea-coat and I buttoned it all the way up, making sure I was covering my attire. I quietly started wheeling my suitcase out of the flat and as I stood in the lobby, I saw Mrs Ami Woods sat at her desk, her thin, wire glasses on the end of her crooked nose.
"Good evening, Mrs Woods. Um, Haven is asleep and shouldn't wake up unless it's something serious and I'll be back before six. You have my mobile number, please call me if anything happens," I said as I stood in front of her desk, looking around the dingy-looking lobby. The walls were once cream, but the wallpaper was now peeling at the corners and was stained in certain places. The floor was a faded old green carpet, with even more questionably-coloured stains on it. Mrs Woods barely looked up from the magazine she was reading, making only a low grunting noise. I sighed gently and left the building, the cool, fresh air a welcome relief from the thick, disgusting air inside. I started walking towards the road, where I took a left. I walked for a good twenty minutes, passing by at least fifty cars and walking past plenty of restaurants. I hadn't eaten at all that day and I knew I wouldn't eat again for another few days. As the concrete in front of me went from grey to a neon red, I knew I was at my destination.