More or Less?

1. Happy Birthday to Me

Who would've guessed I'd be dumpster diving on my 14th birthday?
I certainly didn't.
Ever since my parents died in a car crash three years ago, everything has been so unpredictable. I didn't expect to be a homeless orphan.
My last to birthdays weren't very enjoyable. I hoped today would be different, but so far it stunk. Food is always hard to get, but in winter, it is even harder. My birthday is December 17th, in the middle of the frigid month. Christmas isn't very jolly either.
So here I am, officially 14, in an alley dumpster between Frosticle, an ice cream shoppe that isn't ever busy, and Palace 'O Pizza, the most expensive and impressive pizza place in Colbert, Georgia.
I was born and raised in Athens, Georgia, but after the crash, I had made my way to Colbert.
The crash? Well, not only is it a long story, but it came out of nowhere.
                           ⭐
Mom and Dad had always fought at home. I had never come home to hear quiet, until that day.
I arrived to silence. I assumed Mom must have gone out, or Dad hadn't came home from work yet, but then Mom and Dad came to greet me. It was strange; eery.
Mom was gorgeous, with her perfect cheekbones and short blonde hair. Her eyes were like the ocean on a perfect day, but filled with misery. She had a perfect build, and often wore a simple loose white crop top with high waisted blue jeans. She would have been perfect if it weren't for her crooked teeth and sour personality.
Dad had marvelous green eyes that danced in the sun. His black hair was greased back, and his suit was rumpled. He had a tan from being a coast guard in high school, and a smile that made girls instantly fall for him. He, like Mom, was also imperfect, though. He was a player and was addicted to gambling. He was always scowling when I saw him.
Today, however, they were smiling and holding hands.
"Honey, Aunt Mabel is having her baby. We are going to visit her, okay?" Mom said sweetly.
I nodded. As weird as it was to see my parents being so happy and kind, I was excited.

Aunt Mabel lived in Athens as well. We lived in North Valley, while she lived in Ashton Place, which was a whole 21 minutes away.
Everything was fine until we got on the freeway. Mom and Dad failed to keep up their perfect parents act at that point.
Dad groaned, "Daniella, slow down!"
"I'm following the speed limit, sweetheart!" Mom declared impatiently.
Dad snapped. "You just passed a guy! You're speeding!" Dad shouted.
Mom screamed,"He was under the speed limit!"
Dad argued,"You've always been a bad driver! I'm taking over!"
Dad unbuckled himself and climbed into Mom's seat. The two of them cursed and wrestled for control of the steerring wheel.
I screamed. This couldn't be happening. It had to be a horrible nightmare.
My parents looked at me, sobbing in the back of our 1987 Toyata Corolla. Everything was quiet, until I screamed again, but this time it wasn't because of my parents arguing.
I pointed out the windshield, but my parents turned to late. We drove straight off the freeway into open air.
Everyone was screaming. My life flashed before my eyes. We were tumbling through the air and towards  the road below.
When we crashed and rolled through the traffic, it was hard to believe it was real. The air bags had inflated in the front, and my parents were no longer conscious. I was trying my best  to not crash into anything. I hoped my parents were okay, but I couldn't focus on that. I was to busy trying to live.
When it stopped, I couldn't be more relived. I had been lucky. I only got a couple bruises and scratches. I climbed into the front to check on my parents.
Mom had taken a nasty whack to the head, and was bleeding pretty bad, but she looked awesome compared to Dad. His arm had almost been cut clean off, and he had bruises everywhere. His head was bleeding.
I tried to shake them awake, but they wouldn't budge. I knew I had to check if they had a pulse, but I didn't know how. I put my ear to their chests. No heartbeats. I put my head in front of their mouths. No breath. That's when I realized they were dead.
I wanted to cry, but I heard sirens coming and panicked. Somehow in my eleven year old brain, I though that if the cops caught me, they would frame me for murder, so I bolted.
I only realized later that that was stupid.
                              ⭐
Now, I spent my days searching for meals. I spent my nights curled up in dumpsters and on park benches.
Suddenly I heard the door of the pizza place open. I panicked and tried to hide myself in the dumpster. Apparently, I failed.
"Oh my!" The woman's eyes wide,"What is a girl like you doing, covering herself with garbage? Honey, give me your mother's number!"
I tried not to stare, but the woman caught me off guard. She was plump and grandmotherly, but was much too young. She had on a floral print dress and red heels that marked her red glasses. She had red, short, curly hair, and freckles and moles all over her face. Her eyes were the strangest feature of all. They were yellow and purple and were so wide, even when she squinted to look me over. She was the strangest woman I'd ever seen!
"My mother is dead. So is my dad," I stammered.
The woman tilted her head with pity.
"What's your name, hon?" she asked.
I fiddled with a piece of spaghetti I had picked out out my hair,"My name's Morgan."
The woman held her stomach as she laughed,"Morgan? Morgan is a boy's name!"
I glared at her, and she realized I wasn't pulling her leg. "Oh. Sorry honey! Never met a girl named Morgan before! I'm Mrs. Duke, and I'm the owner of Palace O' Pizza. I'd like to ask you something," the woman explained.
I curtsied,"What may I do for you, Mrs. Duke?"
Mrs Duke grinned,"Do you need a place to stay?"