If I Die Young

2. Mister smart-mouth

Three months ago I was sitting pretty in my apartment in upscale New York, reading a book for school and getting ready for a Halloween party. There was pop music blasting through the house and I was singing along, to the point where I couldn't hold a book to my face anymore. A floor length black gown fell around my legs as I got up, the lace pulled around my shoulders to hug them tight. My costume was a vampire, and I looked the part gorgeously.

My mom poked her head into my room while I was doing my makeup, her golden tresses bouncing gently. My own eyes stared back at me from her skull and she told me they were almost ready to leave, which meant it was time for me to pick up the pace. I turned my light off and trotted out the door, passing by original artworks hanging on the walls and designer furniture to join my parents by the door. My dad was all dressed up as a devil priest, his ironic puns finally catching up to him with this one. My mom was some rendition of frankensteins bride, and either way, they both looked happy. My dad wrapped an arm around her and she leaned into him, already tipsy from pre-party drinks.

The party itself was fine, crowded and full of big names and familiar faces. I was posed on a balcony by a photographer who'd used me as a model before, and in fact my contract with a modeling agency had just ended a few weeks before. My mom was so proud of me, she knew exactly how gorgeous I'd been from the start, and I knew it too. I tipped my head back and let out a haughty laugh, my smile voluptuous and seducing. I'd be turning fifteen next week and the cameras couldn't get enough of Ms. Sable Snow, the girl who'd trotted onto the runway with her head held high.

I drank a few glasses of champagne, a tipsy, bubbly feel taking hold of me on the car ride back. I was laughing the whole time, little giggles eliciting themselves from my lips. I didn't remember much after I'd walked through the door, other than the lights flickering and fading, and screaming. Someone was yelling at me and I was in an argument, and everything went black. The next morning I woke up on a gurney in a hospital room and my parents...let's just say the scene wasn't pretty.

No one knows what happened that night. I was shaken up and initially it was marked as a murder, and I was even a suspect. There was no evidence of a break in, but there wasn't any evidence I did anything either, so there was no proof to hold against me. I'll never know what happened to them, I'm sure of it, and I'm also sure the case will go cold in time. I went from one foster home to another until they found Critter Ridge Orphanage, apparently the best place in the upper east for kids who need to be in either witness protection or just need an environment they can feel safe in.

So here we are. I was leaning over the balcony and looking down at the front door, feeling my fingers tap on the railing to my heartbeat. Eventually I turned and made my way down the stairs, watching as two smaller children ran by me. It was the two boys, James and Brandon, chasing each other around with nerf guns. A dart ricocheted and I caught it, only to see the two stop in their tracks and look at me with wide eyes. I held the item out to Brandon, the older of the two, and he took one look at it before taking off. James followed close behind him, his little legs moving as fast as they could to keep up.

"Well then," I whispered to myself before decidedly walking in the same direction.

I was led to a back door which upon opening revealed an expansive backyard filled with snow. There was a paved path that had been cleared of the powder and off to my right was a wooden playground swarmed with kids. I saw Delilah on the swing set, kicking her legs in the air and enjoying herself. There was an older girl and an older boy on a bench watching all of them, and I saw the boys run up to the pair and whisper something to them. The girl turned her head to look at me and I looked away, her cloudy eyes almost painful to gaze at. She was blind, that much was obvious, so why she'd turned to look was lost to me. The boy on the other hand actually got up from the bench, and I just went on my way.