It's been a couple months since I left New York. I bought a bus ticket with the money I had saved up and made it to California. I was now broke, 6 weeks pregnant with my assaulter's baby, and in a very unfamiliar place. I honestly don't even know how I made it this far. It broke my heart to move away from Amara, but I couldn't stay in the same town as Devin anymore. Especially since I was carrying his child.
I had dropped out of school and was trying to pursue art as a full time career to support me and my baby. I stood on the corner of streets with my art, drawing people as they passed by, then I would take them to my little "apartment", which was basically the basement of the apartment building, and re-draw them, then paint over the lines and try to sell them. In California, I noticed people were a lot more accepting. I even made a new friend. Her name was Bobby, long shiny red hair, bright blue eyes. She was around 5'5 and probably only weighed 100 pounds soaking wet. But she was the most outgoing, kindest person I had met. It didn't take me long to trust her with my life story, except for the small part I was homeless.
One day, I was standing on the street corner by my apartment drawing the building. I was so focused on my work and shading the ground, I wasn't noticing the people at all. That was, until I felt a tap on my shoulder.
"Oren? Is that you?" I lifted my head up. "Oh my gosh it is you! I thought so!" I made eye contact with those green hazel eyes that I had fallen in love with all those years ago.
"Amara! Oh my, you startled me. I was so focused on my work-" She cut me off by grabbing me and wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug. It didn't take me long to return the hug and bury my face in her shoulder. Strawberry Shortcake, just like I remembered.
"What are you doing here? I thought you were in Adams still? I mean I hadn't seen you around school in a while, but I didn't think you guys had moved. I saw your parents the day I left. It didn't seem like they were getting ready to move. So why are you here? How long have you been here?" She rattled on and all I could think about was kissing her right there. I doubted she felt the same so I didn't. I just simply answered:
"I've been here for a couple months. I'm on my own." Her smile faltered a little bit, until she got an idea. Then she smiled the biggest smile I ever saw.
"Well. That probably means you don't have a place yet. So why don't you come stay with me for a bit. I've got all my mom's old recipes. Meatloaf is still your favorite food, right?" She had a hopeful look in her eye, and it had been a while since I had an actual roof to stay under. On top of that, meatloaf was in fact my favorite meal still.
"Yeah. That would be awesome. Thank you so much." We walked and caught up on the way to our apartment building. She told me about her mom's passing being the reason she moved here. She bought the apartment, and was going to art school online.
"So, Oren. I've been talking this entire time, you haven't told me anything. So how about you tell me why you moved up here by yourself.""Well. I got pregnant by my now ex-boyfriend and was kicked out of my parents house because of it. So I got a bus ride here with the money I saved from doing art. Now I'm here." Which was all a lie except for the being pregnant and the bus ride.
"Wow. That sounds rough. Hopefully now that you'll be staying with me, we can turn it upside down." By this time we were at her apartment. When I walked in, I was astounded by how beautiful one place is. Light blue curtains hanging over a window, looking toward the city. A matching light blue sofa and rocking chair, with a dark blue circle rug in the middle. A dark brown, wooden coffee table on top. This was all facing a nice flatscreen television in the corner. The kitchen was a monochromatic style, white countertops with black cabinets.It was a small kitchen but perfect size for just her and I.
"It's only got one bedroom, but I don't mind sharing."
"No no no. I couldn't impose. I'll sleep on the couch, it's not a problem." Honestly, I didn't trust myself in bed with her. Not that I would hurt her, but knowing me, I would start cuddling her and end up making everything awkward.
"No. I couldn't make you do that. Come on. It'll be like having a sleepover every night. You did have those as a kid, right?" I lowered my head, but kept quiet. "This will be fun." She laughed that adorable little laugh she does, and I couldn't deny it anymore.
"Alright. But be warned, I turn really clingy at night and I might cuddle you a little bit."
"You can cuddle me every night if it will help you sleep at night." She almost was shy about it, like she could feel what I felt. But that couldn't be, could it?
A few hours passed, and the apartment already felt like home. I could smell the meatloaf cooking, and hear the water boiling for the Macaroni and Cheese. I was painting the last drawing I had done, before planning on drawing the view from the apartment window. Amber came and sat next to me, watching me finish my painting.
"You know, I could probably talk to a few people and get you into the art school with me. I mean. Your art is absolutely beautiful. They would be crazy to not accept you."
Let me tell you a bit about this school. It's a highschool for artists. I'm not exactly sure how you get in or anything, because I didn't go, but it helps prepare you for Art Colleges and stuff. Maybe if I had gone, I wouldn't be dead.
"No, that's okay. I've gotten this far without schooling, I think I'll be okay on my own. Thank you though."
"Alright. Let me know if you change your mind. I'm late for my class, so the meatloaf should be done any minute, just take it out of the oven, serve yourself a plate, and add some extra barbeque sauce if you want to. Ill be home in about an hour or so. There's milk in the fridge, water bottles, I think there might be some sort of juice in there too." And with that, Amara was out the door, and I was alone once more.
In about half an hour, I finished dinner, did my dishes and had started on a new sketch. This sketch, however, was personal to me. It was a sketch of Amara and I holding hands, staring out the window of the apartment. It was going to be a birthday present for her. I just needed to figure out when her birthday was.
YOU ARE READING
Dead by 24: An Autobiography
Teen FictionThis is the story of Oren Winter. A normal girl with a tragic past. This the story of her life leading up to the day she died.