courtney was a 16 year old proustite.
she moved out of her house when she was only 14 years old.
she left her little sister, jaine there. but she promised she would come back.
although, its been hard keeping that promise.
jaine is twelve years old. and even if she's young , she has courtneys strength.
courtney is homeless right now. but she's been a proustite for a year and a half.
she saves her money for college.
every night she counts it. like , tonight.
she hides it behind an old convenience store in a fast food bag. where not even rats go.
she grabbed the brown paper bag as she sat down against the wall.
she grabbed the stack of cash and began to count.
" 19,700, 19,800,19,900, 20,000!"
finally, she got enough for hit first year in college.
she put the money back in the bag and back behind the store.
she walked over to the payphone.
it had markings all over it.
she grabbed the phone that was chipping and slid a few coins into the machine
she dialed the numbers and waited as the line rang
" hello? "
" jaine ?"
" courtney!? "
" yeah, yeah, its me " she said as she lightly chuckled. hearing jaines voice was courtneys favorite thing.
" how are you? where are you ? are you safe ? " jaine asked. jaine was probably more responsible then both of their parents. jaine couldn't lose courtney
" im at the store , right now. and guess what ? i got enough money for college."
" really ? oh my god , finally " she laughed.
" yeah, i swear once i get more money , im coming and im gonna help you o--"
" courtney, im fine. you don't need to worry about me."
even if jaine said she was fine, courtney knew she wasnt.
she remembered being just like her. but she knows that jaine can handle it.
" okay, okay , well take care jaine " it always took everything in courtney not to cry.
" i will"
" i love you ."
" i love you , too" she sniffled.
courtney hung up. she laid her head on the back of the payphone and sighed.
it was getting dark and courtney was tired, so she decided to call it a night.
she went back to the back of the store.
she changed from her grey crop top and into a tshirt she found when she first got there.
of course , she took it to the wash it in the city laundry room, but goes less frequently.
maybe, because the dirty looks everyone gave her.
after she put on her tshirt , she looked at her wrists.
her bruised wrists.
she hated them. lots of customers weren't gentle , at all.
BẠN ĐANG ĐỌC
→ bruises ← c.r ( one shot )
Fanfiction" why do you have those bruises ? " " i don't know " " you have too, are you doing something you're not supposed to ?"
