The Hidden Descendants

Berkley*Bang, bang, bang!* "Yo, Twerp! Time to go!" The persistent knocking hammered through my head like a carpenter test driving a new hammer. I moaned and groaned as I tossed around on the old mattress beneath me. *Bang, bang!* "For f**k sake! Go away!" I croaked weakly. "Can't! It's time for you to go. Or it's both of our asses on the line!" Shit! I know that voice. It's not the grating and unpleasant one that I'm used to hearing. No, this one is loud and demanding, which means I crashed here at the pub again. I quickly jumped from the old cot in a complete frenzy. If Al is beating on the door, then that means I've pushed the limit on my welcome here. I ran in circles finding all of my belongings. Which isn't much, by the way. Just the important items. An extra pair of clothes, a toothbrush, hair brush, and my work shirt were all stuffed in an aged-torn backpack. I pause, missing something...shoes! Where are my shoes?! I bend at the waist to search all over the place. *Bang, bang!* "Damn it, Al! I'm coming. I'm looking for my shoes!" I shouted over my shoulder. A few seconds later, the door bangs open. "If the boss finds you here, it's not only my ass that will be grassed but yours also. Listen, kid. I don't mind helping you out, but we had a deal. I let you crash here when you need it, but you're supposed to be out of here by seven-thirty." I didn't have to turn around to find out the man that resembled the hulk was standing behind me with a pointed look and his arms crossed over his chest. I army crawl over to the cot and duck my head underneath. I stretch my arm as far as it can go and use the tips of my toes against the floor to give me another inch in length. My hand lands on suede material and I clutch it tightly in my palm. Jumping up, I raise it high in the air, "Got it!" I stuff the shoes onto my feet rapidly and sling my backpack over my shoulder. Finally, I looked at Al. Walking by him, I pat his chest nonchalantly. "We're good, Al. Look, I'm leaving and Bass isn't even here. Our secret is still just that, a secret. Thanks for the hours last night. Remember-" Al sighs, exasperated with me. Then he waves his hand around in the air, shooing me away. "Yeah, yeah. If I got the hours, you got the time. I know, B. Your envelope is on the counter. Don't forget it." I practically sprinted down the hall, snagging the cream colored envelope off the butcher block countertop on my way. "Thanks, Al. Your the best!" I don't exactly get a response from the guy, instead I hear a grumbled grunt. I smirk as I push out the door. I don't care what the man says. I know I'm growing on him. Besides, if I wasn't, then he wouldn't let me sleep there when I needed to. Weird, right? Sleeping in the place you work? Well, the thing is, it's not exactly my only option, but some nights it is the best one. The foster house that occupies my permanent address isn't exactly a place anyone should lie their head down at night. Well, that's not true. Someone like me shouldn't be. Ya know, teenage girl, that has changed foster homes as often as someone might get a hair cut. This is the longest I've ever been at one of these homes. We're going on thirteen months now. I used to do anything I could to get to the next place as fast as I could. Fighting, arguing-or I would just be a straight up menace to them. None of the homes I've been placed in have ever felt like 'home'. I'm an orphan in the foster care system, I get it. None of them are supposed to feel like home. The problem is that no man or woman ever wanted me when they went window shopping for their next little prodigy. I figured at some point I might be placed somewhere at least bearable. When I ended up here in Arcane Valley, I was sixteen and only had a few months until I was seventeen. I decided I would just make the best of what I could until then. Once I turned eighteen, I wouldn't have to worry about the homes I was in anymore, because I would officially be considered an adult and could move out of the system. When I moved to Arcane Valley, I decided to stop searching for peace and create my own. I stopped expecting the best, and accepted the worst. This is by far the best place I have lived. My foster mother, Barb, has a drug problem. The extent of it? Not sure. I've only been around for the fall out. My foster father, Kurt, has a serious gambling problem. I've been around for that fall out also and it's never pretty when the debt collector's come knocking. They never have food in the house, they could care less if I eat or not. I get one free meal a day at school and other than that, I'm on my own. I have a bedroom, if that is what you can even call it. Its more like a cubby hole with a mattress laid out flat on the ground. I sleep there sometimes, but otherwise I try to stay away. Kurt and Barb collect their paycheck for 'fostering' me, and they don't question where I've been. It's kind of a silent agreement we've made between the three of us. Don't get me wrong, I have to eat more than one meal a day. I still need to get school supplies or toiletries for myself, which is exactly why I have a deal worked out with Al. Al runs the local pub here in town, Arc's Alehouse. I'm not old enough to be working there, which is why I have another silent agreement with him. I work when he is short-staffed or someone calls off and he gives me a place to rest my head at night. Sure, it's not the best place to be staying, but it's more than the halfway house I was assigned to has ever given me. I have a cot with a mattress that isn't just tossed onto a floor. There is a sink and shower in the little room also. I don't need the Hilton, I just need the basics, then I can make do. It's against the law for Al to do what he does for me, which is why I appreciate it so much. It's also against the law for Kurt and Barb to do what they do with me, but it's better than the alternative. I'd just be moved to a different home, in a different city. And out of all the places I've been, Arcane Valley isn't the worst. Heck, it might actually be the best. The school here is decent and I'll get my degree, which is all that matters. The other schools I've attended have been a little... harsh, I guess you could say. I didn't put up with it though. I've been in my fair share of fights. Whether that involves using a fist or words, either way, I did it. I didn't allow myself to be walked all over. I would never do that. I don't think I have it in my body to not defend myself. Here though, attending Valley High, I don't have to worry about that. For an entire year, I have been able to remain invisible. No one acknowledges me and I don't have to lay anyone out. It's the best of both worlds. I'm a pariah at best. You have your popular kids, the jocks, cheerleaders, the artful people, nerds, or outcasts, all the normal stereotypes exist, but then you have me. I'm not sure I fall anywhere on the scale or if I have a scale of my own. Me, myself and I. Anyway, I'm not complaining. I keep to myself, stay invisible and no one bothers me. It's pretty great, really. My point is, this isn't the best situation someone would imagine for themselves, but it's the best-case scenario for me. In my world, you take what you can get, and roll with the punches along the way. Even if some of those punches feel like an atomic bomb. You move about your day and offer nothing in return. Anyone that comes from a life like mine is never given anything. You either take it, or you work for it. Sometimes you have to do both. No judgment here. I've had to steal plenty of times. A grumbling stomach that has been empty for three days, and no sign of a next meal anywhere makes you consider your options really quickly. Especially when you have a deli sandwich in sight. Take the sandwich and potentially spend a few days in a cell? Or continue with your day, and pray you get fed before you fall over dead from malnutrition? Guess what? That jail cell has a bed and three free meals a day, which is more than any of us could ever ask for. So, guess which option we all choose, because I bet if push came to shove you'd do the same.