Rosalie
After quickly gathering myself from the intense stare-down from Mr. Storm, I walked over to the kitchen cabinet and quickly fed Macaroni. The scruffy little thing was all I had. I remember finding her when I was 10 years old in a dumpster behind an old restaurant where I washed dishes. The poor thing was meowing, half-starved, and had only looked like it was a few weeks old. Being the young girl I was, the only thing I could feed it was some macaroni. I could not go out to buy food for her because I had no money. So the calico cat's name was then dubbed Macaroni. She kept quiet in the house and only meows when I could lock myself in my room.
Washing dishes with my then foster father was brutal. The dishwasher was always broken at the old restaurant s***h bar, so he took it upon
