Find Your Love

Chapter Two

2022

    "Alyssa, how many times do I have to tell you to take out the garbage?"

    Alyssa jogged down the stairs with an old, worn purse thrown over her shoulder. She stopped at the bottom stair, mainly because Brenda was blocking her way. "I'm late for work. Taysia or Chas can take it out."

    Brenda lifted a solitary eyebrow. The years had been kind to her. She'd barely aged within the past twelve years. The only telltale sign that any time had passed at all was the streak of gray shooting through her hair, which she'd recently cut into a shorter hairstyle than previous years. She folded her arms across her chest, frowning. "Taysia and Chastity have more important things to do than chores that were assigned to you."

    "So do I," Alyssa said. "I work. I go to school. Maybe you can take out the garbage."

    Brenda smacked her on the cheek for even uttering the words.

    Alyssa held a hand up to her cheek and stared at Brenda. "Now that we have the weekly slap out of the way," she said, pushing past her stepmother.

    "You'd better take out the garbage before you leave," Brenda told her, the tone in her voice threatening.

    "I will, mommy dearest," Alyssa mumbled as she turned and headed down the hall that lead to the kitchen. She collected the garbage bag out of the tall kitchen garbage can and opened the back door.

    "What was that?" Brenda demanded, following her down the hall.

    Alyssa was out the door with the door firmly slammed behind her, saving herself the need to respond. After tossing the garbage bag in the huge outside garbage can, she dusted her hands off, frowning in disgust. Normally, she washed her hands after taking out the garbage, but she didn't want to go back inside that house...not with those people in there. She adjusted the sleeves on her hoodie and pulled her hood over her head. For spring, it was still extremly chilly in the suburbs of Cleveland, Ohio.

    Brenda was always after her one way or another. The slapping, the yelling, all of that barely even phased Alyssa anymore. Alyssa suspected that Brenda still blamed her for her father's death, and she couldn't even blame her stepmother if that was the case. Alyssa still blamed herself for her father's death. A day didn't go by without her wishing for a miracle to happen, a miracle that would allow her father to return to her. Or a miracle that would allow for Alyssa to go back in time, so she could prevent herself from running out into that street. Anything that would bring her father back. But at twenty years old, she knew better. Miracles like that didn't exist. In Alyssa's world, no miracles seemed to exist. Sure, she saw them happen to other people. Cancer patients on the news miraculously going into remission. Diseases cured, lives saved, all by some crazy freak occurrence. Those kinds of miracles seemed hesitant to approach the Matteson family household, however.

    She tried not to think about how pitiful her life was as she walked the streets of her neighborhood with her hands shoved into the pockets of her hoodie. She was twenty years old. She didn't have a car. She didn't have...anything, really. Her clothes were hand-me-downs from her stepsisters, who had everything. They each had cars. Nice cars. They had new clothes. They frequented the hair salon, whereas Alyssa was left to her own devices, as far as hair was concerned. She usually kept her hair braided. Not braided with hair extensions - Brenda would never pay for that, and truth be told, Alyssa's hair was long enough without extensions anyway. She kept her hair braided for the convenience of it. Who had time to worry about curling or straightening hair when she had to be at work? Or had to be in class? Or had to be in the house, cleaning whatever Brenda was demanding to be cleaned?

    She was used to Brenda's antics now, but those first few years after the death of her father had been hard. Alyssa had run away, on several occasions. The first few times, she was picked up by police officers, who drove her back home. The third time, Brenda found her hiding in Hamilton Park, on the swings, staring towards the spot where her father had died. She ran, but she never had anywhere to go. As much as she hated to admit it, Brenda, Taysia, and Chastity were all she had. And they knew it. Which is probably why they felt they were able to treat her any way they wanted to. Taysia and Chastity made a game out of how many times a day they could trip Alyssa and make her fall. They were constantly pulling pranks on her. Lying to their mother and blaming their own misdeeds on her. Alyssa was so guilt-ridden over the death of her father, she made for the perfect punching bag. Whenever they lied on her, she didn't even deny whatever they were blaming her for.

    As a result, though, Brenda didn't hold Alyssa in high regard. She thought that Alyssa was a heathen and treated her as such. She gave Alyssa very few freedoms and made sure that if Alyssa wasn't working on homework, she was working in some way, shape, or form. "I didn't have to take care of you," she'd always say. "I could have just sent you off to a foster home after you killed your father. I was kind enough to keep you. But you will make sure that this house is clean. Spic and span. I don't care who makes the mess. It will be you who cleans it."

    Clean everyone's mess, Alyssa did. On a daily basis. There was a part of her that liked the work. When she was busy cleaning, she wasn't sitting on her narrow, twin-sized bed stressing out over just how horrible her life was. Even factoring in Brenda slapping her, and the cleaning...nothing compared to the depression Alyssa felt whenever she was alone in her room. Her room, which had been moved to the attic so Taysia and Chastity could each have their own separate rooms. She'd rather be downstairs cleaning than up in the attic, alone. She heard sounds at night in that attic. It always sounded like someone was crumpling up a candy wrapper. She was starting to suspect that their house had mice in it. Which would be par for the course, and would fall in line with the rest of her miserable life.

    An old, rusty blue Dodge Neon pulled up alongside her and the passenger window rolled down.

    Alysa stopped walking and peered inside of the car, even though she already knew who was sitting at the wheel. There weren't many old, battered Dodge Neons driving the streets these days.

    Samantha Williams, a cute perky redhead who wore dark, thick-framed glasses, pulled her car to a stop. "Where are you going, hot stuff?"

    Alyssa laughed and walked over to the car. She opened the passenger door and collapsed into the seat. "You're running late, too?"

    "Overslept," Samantha said with a shrug. "It happens. We're underpaid, and we're the only halfway dependable staff the place has. I doubt they'll give us grief for being late."

    "I overslept too," Alyssa said, lowering her hood. "I was up all night braiding my hair."

    Samantha glanced at the finished product. "I like it. It looks nice."

    Alyssa shrugged. "It's something."

    "How is Mama Brenda?" Samantha asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

    Alyssa brought a hand up to her cheek, still feeling the slightest of stings. She stared out of the passenger window.

    Samantha sucked her teeth in sympathy. "That good, huh?"

    "I need to save up my money," Alyssa said, still staring out of the window. "I need to save up my money as quickly as I can, because I can't live here anymore. I have to get out."

    "You and me both, chica," Samantha said, pulling her car away from the curb.