Life's Worth

Death

Over the course of the next few days, my arms slowly started healing and fading, and I sometimes allowed myself to forget what I did. I couldn't, however, forget any of those images I saw that night. Sure, I'd killed myself, but I'd never seen my body. I usually didn't when I died. I figured it was too tragic for a life so replaceable.

Eventually, our house was completely out of food, which was to be expected of us. We were barely managing to get by on food from our friends at school, anyways. Soon enough, we broke down and decided to risk a beating to steal from our father again who had gone gambling the night before. We hoped he was too drunk to notice his money was missing.

Our parents weren't that abusive to us, really. They hit each other more than they hit us.

I sighed, setting down our father's wallet back down. "Nothing," I whisper to Karen, trying not to wake our sleeping father.

We both slip out of the living room and into mine so we aren't spotted.

"Kenny, we're nearly out of food...You're going to have to start applying for jobs again. Even if you have a bad upbringing, even if you have some sort of reputation, please at least try again," Karen begs, appearing as if she'll cry.

"I was planning to, anyways. They built a convenience store on the edge of town, an Allsup's, I think. They're really desperate to hire, so I already applied for an interview there. Don't worry. We've been through this before, and we still lived." I ruffled her hair and gave her a soft smile. "The interview isn't until a few hours from now, though. I was planning to tell you, but didn't have the right opportunity."

"Come on, then, I'll help you look presentable." She then went to my closet and began sifting through my clothes.

A couple hours later, I was wearing a clean Terrance and Philip shirt that was a hand-me-down from Kyle, a pair of jeans that Dad never wears anymore and happen to be clean, and my normal boots. For once, my hair had been properly shampooed and combed. Karen also coaxed me into trimming it so that my bangs stayed out of my eyes.

I examined myself in Karen's full-length mirror, and honestly couldn't believe it was me. I typically wore old, worn clothes, and this was quite a drastic change.

After I'd changed, I has instantly pulled on my parka, not wanting Karen to see my wrists.

"You like?" she asked hopefully.

I nodded and kissed her forehead. "Thanks, Karen, I owe you one."

"No, you don't. It's my pleasure." She gave me an innocent smile before lightly placing her small hands on my back and pushing me towards the door, careful not to step on anything.

"The interview isn't for another hour and a half," I protested. It took maybe thirty minutes to get there. What was I going to do for another hour?

"Well then you won't be late. Now, go. Good luck." Karen opened the door and light pushed me out, quickly shutting the door, quietly so as not to wake my parents. I heard the lock click into place shortly after.

Sighing, I stepped off the front porch. I kicked a broken bottle for a few feet until I reached the train tracks.

The train didn't run anymore. I'd gotten ran over as a kid, and the routes changed despite no one remembering that I was killed. Now the train tracks just symbolize the separation between my family and everyone else. Our side is dirt and melting snow; their side is bright green grass with piles of snow. Our side has broken cars and beer bottles; their side has working, practically brand new cars, and clean grounds. Our side had our old, one-story house that was falling apart; their side had two-story houses that had been remodeled and repainted to look just as new as when they were built. Our side contained only us, the white trash; their side had people with normal families, normal lives, and happy children that had never gone a day where they had to fend for theirselves just to get a little meal.