************
"So young yet so wise you are, what's your name little one?" The shopkeeper says after I place the first load of stolen goods on the table.
"Harriet." I say coolly, trying to show confidence.
"Where on earth did you get these?" His smile meets his eyes and his huge eyes glow with joy as he holds forward an amethyst pendant. I open my mouth to say I stole everything you have in front of you because I need to help pay for my friends, fathers medical bills, hoping he will give me more for it. But I think better of it, what if he turns me in to the police.
"I... I don't know, just places..." That's a lie and he knows it, but I don't know him, only of him. He's just a strange large man. I heard he could give me money for goods, if the value was to his liking. So I saved up on goods, jewels, rings, crafts from the market that looked expensive enough and easily stolen.
"Nah, no lying to me girly, where'd you get this?" I swallow the lump in my throat, I can run, the doors are not too far and I'm little so I can get away. "You won't tell me?" He questions, brow raised, his large hazel eyes staring down at me.
"You won't tell no one?" The question is strange as it rolls off my tongue. I shouldn't tell him, but I need the money for Mitch, Darius and myself.
"Course not little one." His thick Irish accent makes my ears struggle to hear him correctly.
"Pinky promise?" I say holding out my hand and flipping my pinky finger out towards him.
"Pinky promise" He says, locking his thick beefy finger with mine.
"The palace."
"Palace? Aye princess."
"No, I'm not a princess." I look down at my tattered clothes.
"Aye, aye know little one, but how did you acquire these beauties?" He motions to the jewels.
"I work at the palace. I clean."
"How old are you?"
I puff out my chest and try to look tall and brave "8," I state proudly.
"8," he looks me up and down again. "My, my little one, why do you have a job already? Where are ye parents?"
"I don't have none sir." My eyes fall to the floor then up at my pile of earnings and then to the man's breaded face. "Sir?"
"My goodness little one, you are a fighter I can tell. Brave and courageous, but also very polite, please call me Rowan." He sticks out his hand again and I reach for it. His grip is slight even though his whole hand covers mind entirely. He looks as if he's scared he might break me though with such a soft touch. "And I'm going to be ye friend. You got any other friends?"
"I got one," I say immediately thinking of Mitch.
"Good, well stay with her when I'm not here. You need someone looking out for you."
"Him."
"What?"
"My friend, his name is Mitchell"
"Mitchum." He says and went to counting coins. I am too scared to correct him, still not knowing what to think of Rowan. "Here you go little one." I thank him and turn to leave I would count my earnings later, I know better than to count in front of the buyer. I pull on the old door but he calls to me. "Harriet. You need to eat more. Take some of these." He holds up a platter of treats. "My wife made them this morning." I turn back to him, holding my earning close to my chest. I take the treats with a grateful smile, thanking him again through bite of sweets and leave chewing the deliciousness as I go.
*********
"In here," a voice says and the door slowly pulls open and two people slip in closing the door behind them.
"See, we are alone." He declares as he kisses the girl urgently his arms wrapping around her, she giggles and wraps her hands at his neck.
"Gross! People," I move from the window to the side of my bed, "Get out! Can't you see I'm sleeping here?" My arms flair up and I storm toward them trying to push them out the door, obviously an unsuccessful gesture. "Go find a room that IS vacant!" I yell crossing my arms and moving back toward the bed to protect my body from them and their shenanigans. She pulls his jacket off and pushes him toward the bed. I let out a groan of disgust. "Seriously, do you not see me lying here?"
She looks down and starts to untie her dress, he keeping walking back to the bed. With his back to me, he walks through me and a shiver runs up his spine. Then he slowly sits on the edge of my bed and peels off his shoes and tugs at his shirt.
"Unbelievable," my eyes roll back to him then to her. "Get out!" I demand again fury fills my voice. "You can't do this!" I complain still unheard, and I don't know what to do. These children, younger than I and already being this stupid. "You are being stupid, oh so very stupid." But I don't really care if they're being stupid... I adjust my position and stare at the already half naked boy. "Just don't be stupid on me!" The girl looks up obviously having trouble with her strings. He stands up and moves to assist her. "Stop" I yell again and again knowing it's hopeless, but unable to stop myself. "You are both too young and are going to get pregnant and leave the baby on the sidewalk-" My voice picks up speed and it's like my brain is racing to get all the words out. Everything that I have been holding inside for so many years, and now seeing them here with me... Seeing every stupid horney boy and girl go through the phase of love and lust and utter stupidity, it just makes me sick.
"Or you will keep the baby" I continue, "and forever regret the boy that had to have you." I'm yelling at her, standing next to her, trying to talk sense into her, but the boy continues to pull at her dress. "Gah," I can't watch this. I go to walk to the door and avoid their soon to be naked bodies, but a scream stops me in my tracks.
"Oh my lord!" The girl screams bringing her hand to her mouth in shock.
"Yeah, I don't think the Lord would like what you were about to do." I inform the girl, turning back to them.
"What baby?" He turns and his eyes grow sour. I saunter back to the couple and sit next to me on the bed.
"Yeah, I'm sleeping here kids." I state and a grin appears on my face. Finally.
"Is she...she's dead?!" Her hands shake and lip quivers, moving away from him and me. She swiftly turns and starts racing towards the door attempting to cover herself. He however stays silent, his heart pounding, and his palms begin to sweat as he kneads his hands together in confusion.
"No... No, I don't think..." He couldn't get anything else out.
"And we almost- Ahh!" The girl starts, recollection of what might have happened finally catching up to her. Her horror is my humor, my laugh matching her screams. The girl sloppily ties up her dress and rushes out the door with him trailing after her yanking a shoe on as he hops out the door.
You know when you see a car crash or a train wreak or a severed head in the middle of the street. Okay, so that last one hopefully you never have to witness but you get the point. You want to look away, but you want to see what happens too. You want to figure out how it happened or maybe you want avert your eyes, but the flickering fire lights draw your gaze back to it. Anyway, my life is like a train wreck, except no one wants to look at me. The horror of my life is just that awful that people don't just look the other way they go around the block, even go a mile out of their way, sprint right past the severed head as it is were nothing more than a dead spider to be dealt with at a later time. Or move to a new house because even if you remove the head, fix the car, patch up the train and its tracks, what was once there is still a memory and always will be. So then you leave and hope to never look back... That is how I felt as the girl rushed out the room.
The boy stares at me a moment longer and his face twists and his Adams apple bobs, then he finally tares his eyes away and runs out the door.
"Baby, come back." He calls to her, but I doubt that she will ever want him again. I walk out the now open door and watch her run down the staircase, him still struggling with his other shoe. I can't help but continue to laugh at their appearance.
"I'm glad I could be of help," I holler down the stairs. "Next time you want to do something stupid fell free to come back and take my advice. I'll be here every day, all day-" my attitude changes from humorous, to serious, to depressing, "for the rest of my life." The door slams and slams again leaving me alone again. A laugh catches in my throat as I become alone. Always alone. I can't think this way; I think I need to have hope.
"I can't think this way." I say aloud, "I will get better." A sigh takes over me and my shoulders sag deeper. "Say it like you mean it!" I state, "I will get better." Again, I think forcing myself to speak. "I will get better." Again, say it until you believe it, I demand myself to stand up straight and peer into the small hallway mirror that shows no reflection "I will get..." my voice dies off and I stare into the empty mirror. I'm never going to believe it, I'm never going to get better.