Sleepy Morning

I didn't sleep at all afterhe left. I knew he was up to something, not asking about the house. I just didn't know what. The only indication of pity was with the hamburger meat, buns and onions he left for me when he saw the emptiness of my fridge. "I was going to bring it to the shelter," he explained "But I guess it would be better if you had it." I smiled, feigning thanks. It's none of your business! This is MY LIFE! Later, though I fried up the delicious red meat for a late dinner.

The sun was rising when I finally decided to get ready. The air was hung with humidity. It's going to rain. I pulled off my outer clothing, leaving only the under's behind, and let the cool shower water caress my sweating body. It didn't last, though, the tap soon began to run rusty and fish-scented, so I quickly jumped out and hurried back into my sun-soaked garments. It must be around 4 am. I thought, striding carelessly towards the long-dead tree beside the river. I would never be up at 4 am before. Suddenly, I began to doubt the intelligence of my escape. Why hasn't anyone bothered putting something up in the newspaper? How will I survive the winter? And what about food? It's not like I can expect Cyrus to feed me for the rest of my life... I soon found an answer in a handful of seeds laying beside the river bank. I smiled, ecstatic that the Great Plumbob had answered my prayers. I searched for more until I knew the little island like the back of my mangled hand, stopping only when I began to hear the city wake up. I planted them in a neat row behind the house, away from anyone who would want to steal them.

Once I was content with my gardening skills, I had nothing better to do than pick up an outdated newspaper, plunk myself down onto the chair out front, and dream of the sea.

New Love

The smell of burning dye overpowered the room. My hair! I realized, grabbing it to make sure it was still there. My poor hair! I wandered up to the bathroom in a daze, hoping that there might be a pair of scissors in the medicine-cabinet/box under the toilet-thing. Once the outdated creams and mysterious canisters of green pills were moved, my answers were found. Sure, they were slimy and would certainly give me tetanus if I accidentally cut myself, but they could work. I straightened up, almost hitting my head on the mirror plastered with old photos,took a deep breath and began to cut away the damaged locks.

The floor was littered with shrivelled piecesof my hair, that depressed me so much, I just stuck them under the bathtub not to look at them. My naturally messy hair was restored to it's full wavyness by the liberation of smoke,water and a trim, leaving me with a kind of stylish, fluffy bob. Now that that's done, my mind told me, I should get rid of this ratty uniform. The old owner of the house has left a metal shelf, one used usually in gyms or prisons, that probably contained clothing. I pulled off the offending article of clothing and searched for a new shirt. Within minutes, I found a men's button-up shirt in fairlygood condition, considering the rest of the mildewy and moth-eaten t-shirts.I pulled it on, tucked it into my jeans and decided to take a bath.

I was rushed out of the warm bubble-filled tub by a urgent honking outside my window. Oh my plumbob! The mausoleum! I rushed into the fresh seaside air, only to see the car turning the corner at the end of the pier. Llamas! I finished tying the last lace on my shoe, snatched my protesting bike and hopped on. Mr. Merrik,the funeral director was not amused. I politely apologized, and began my work of cleaning the tombstones

It was early morning when I finished, around 4 or 5, so I decided to just walk to school and sleep on a bench. No one could recognize me, anyway, with the new haircut, sunken cheeks and lack of makeup. I reassured myself that since I had always had been taught in the orphanage, not going to school, no one there would recognize me , and soon I drifted off into a deep sleep on the bleachers. The next morning, however, I wasn't so confident.

I did have a half-sister here. We'd only met twice, but she might recognize me. She won't! You're worrying too much! I told myself before pushing open thedoor and heading to the office. Right before going into the open door, I saw Elspeth looking right at me. I ducked my head, full of adrenaline and ducked into the office. They admitted me in, no problem, any friend of Elspeth's was a friend of theirs. Instead of my real name, though, I used Smith. Agatha Smith. It wasn't as catchy as Grey, but it would attract less attention. I was put in a class without a single recognizable soul, save the teacher, who I'd read about in the newspaper. I automatically had a crush on this boy, Cyrus Best, and I invited him home after school. He accepted.

We talked for a bit, gossiped, chatted and he didn't once ask why I was in this dingy place all alone. It was all going pretty normal, until halfway through a conversation, we were kissing. I was in heaven. Don't blow it now, I thought, You tried to kiss him and he let you. "Wow," he breathed silently, "I didn't know you liked me back."

"You are such a nerd!" I teased him, holding his high grades and shyness above him.

"And you are not." He stated.

"You're so cute."

"You're so beautiful."

"Will you go out with me?"

I paused. I didn't expect it so fast. "Yes," i replied finally "I will." I stroked his cheek, infatuated by his polite shyness and noticed the red burns covering my hands. I pulled them away quickly. "I'll see you tomorrow. I'd let you stay over, but I'm not allowed," I lied. I didn't want to admit to him I didn't live with my parents, but I don't know why. We kissed, and he left.

Mistakes

The sun greeted me, prying my eyes open with it's tentacular rays of light. For a moment, I had no idea where I was, but then it all came rushing back to me. The shack.Cheap food. Suzy. Food, I thought again. I hadn't had a meal since yesterday afternoon. I walked over to the fridge, hoping there would be something that hadn't spoiled. "Ahh!" I screamed "Eww! Get it off!". A cat's carcass had fallen from the broken shelf, splaying itself onto my feet. No food, then. Time to get a job, I thought as I kicked the mangled animal towards the door.

But where to go where no one would recognize me? It seemed impossible. Suddenly, it came to me as I dragged the feline cadaver to the trash bin. The mausoleum. They needed a new manager since old Gunther died, I had seen it in the newspaper last week. I opened the lid of the garbage can, and saw the broken light ofa bicyclestaring back at me. Things are going my way today. It was rusted and flimsy, but the wheels and pedals seemed to be working fine. I jumped on and headed to Eternal Rest Graveyard.

Once there, I found my way into themausoleum and got the job without a second glance.

I still needed something to keep me going until I got myfirst paycheck, so the garbage can of a nearby estate was an excellent choice. I got some shampoo, last week's newspaper, a fire extinguisher and VIRTUAL REALITY GOGGLES! I knew I should have sold the V.R. goggles right away, but I felt the urge to keep them. I had a job now, I didn't need the money. Meanwhile, tragedy struck. I had left the fireplace on at home. It was acheap thing, made of plastic covered steel and sparks flew from it at will. This time, a spark had caught on the splintery floorboards and a blazing inferno had begun. I came home just in time to see the old posters burst into flame.

I rushed forward to stamp out the flame, the loose tail of my coat hanging into the flames. Suddenly, I had two choices. To save me, or my house. There was close to no chance I would be able to survive if I didn't jump into the outdoor shower near the well immediately, even less that I would be able to use my house after I died.

The water was cold, but I stood under the frigid salt water, batting at the flame and ignoring the pain. Once it went out, I ran back inside and almost sprinted straight into the fire. In a moment of panic, I called out, but then clapped my hand over my mouth in case someone fishing heard me. I pulled myself together, grabbed the fire extinguisher that I had scavenged earlier, thanking the great plumbob in the sky I had stopped for it.

It took a few tries, but the fire was in control soon. Note to self: Only use fireplace when needed. I put it out. If the Beatles were here right now they'd write a song about how hot I am.

The Shack

Once I got out of view of Mr. Strummer, the security guard, I started to run. I ran until my sides ached and I wanted to curl upon the road and die. I willed myself to go on. Eventually, I reached the place where the diner once stood, years before I was born, but now only contained a small, abandoned shack. I flopped down onto the splintery lawn chair and regained my breath. Well, I thought, at least I have a place to stay, as I eyed the rusty mailbox and boarded windows. My stomach growled. I went inside, and found an old box of Kraft Dinner. Luckily, that stuff has so many preservatives, it hadn't gone bad yet. I turned on the stove and made my first meal in a new life.

When searching for a place to wash the old bowler hat I was using as a bowl, I found a small bathroom, complete with toilet, tub and sink. At first, the water that spouted out of the tap was orange and unappetizing, but soon it became cool and clear, albeit a little salty. Suddenly, there

a knock on the door. I paused, wondering if it was someone from the orphanage. I didn't move, and soon the door creaked open.

It was Suzy Strummer, Mr.Strummer's daughter. She wanted me to go back to the orphanage. "It's too dangerous!" she cried, wringing her hands miserably, "You'll be killed! Tortured! Kidnapped!"

"I'm not coming with you, Suzy," I replied calmly, a false smile on my face, "But I will promise you this. You tell your dad I'm not here, and I wont throw you down my well." I was bluffing, but apparently she couldn't tell. There was a moment of silence, before she spoke again.

"Fine. But don't come crying to me when-"

"Goodbye, Suzy." She left. In my mind, I made a note to put up a fence the moment I had enough money. Night had fallen, so I laydown on the creaking boxspring and hoped sleep would overcome me.

A New Beginning

Hello. My name is Agatha. Agatha Grey. And I am not proud to say that I am the illegitimate daughter of Vladimir Shlick and Lady Cook. I've never met them, though, I grew up in an orphanage. There, they named me based on my appearance, after Agatha Christie and Dorian Grey, because apparently I "looked like such an intellectual littlegirl" that the name suited me perfectly.

Not that I'd want some stupid name like my half sister's, Elspeth. That isn't my point though, today I'm here to talk to you about one sunny day in mid-may, when I went to town to pick up some groceries and never came back.