It was four years ago...
A bright light beamed across a sleeping face and a tussle pf black hair with light blues tied in. The light went away a moment before shining back into her face. Her brows furrowed as she started to resurface from slumber. Someone had pulled her away from her escape.
"Lyssa, is that you?" a gruff voice asked.
"Shove off."
"Why are you sleeping on this bench?" the voice asked again, now annoyed.
"Because its better than pavement," Alyssa said in a groggy matter-of-fact tone as she rubbed her eyes, the light forcing her to open them.
"You have a home, Lyssa."
"Not anymore. They told me they were going to ship me off, like the others."
The voice sighed, "Maybe if you acted right they wouldn't have to."
She squinted to see which cop it was. The bearer of the light was plump and starting to grey, moustache thicker and wider than any other. Bobby Johnson. He was the one that generally found her sleeping in one park or another. He had the graveyard shift. Poor guy, he had her to deal with.
"Don't give me that, Johnson," she shuffled upwards, sitting upright.
"I'll give you that until you're 18," he sneered at her before clicking off his flashlight and holstering it.
"Two long years."
"You don't go to school, barely go to work, never go home, sleep on park benches, and eat when you remember to. Just get your life together. It'd save us some trouble at the station."
Cops were all the same. They were on the outside looking in, never the other way around. They only knew what they could see. They didn't know anything about her.
"Are you gunna cuff me or not? Because I'm done jabbering," Alyssa held out her wrists, barely covered by a thin black hoodie in the cold November air. She was used to the cold.
"Lyssa, you know I can't arrest you."
"Good, because you would've had a helluva time chasing me down," She stood, walking down a pathway.
"Just go home, okay?" Johnson followed shortly after her.
"I'll be the judge of 'home', alright? I've got a place to stay. Don't worry about me."
Johnson stuck a five dollar bill in her hand, "Here, take the bus. I don't like the idea of you out walking alone this time of night."
"I slept on a park bench. I think I'll be okay," She slipped the bill into her well worn back pocket, "Thanks anyway."
He sighed, "Fine. Just stay out of trouble."
"I don't make promises," Alyssa said over her shoulder as Johnson shook his head and walked away.
She passed The Bean smiling a bit. Her reflection in it showed a tired, worn little girl, cold yet bright blue eyes too old for her 16 years. She frowned and walked away. Twenty minutes later she found herself infront of an old run down apartment building. She stumbled up the stairs and softly knocked on apartment 3B's door. There was slight movement from the inside, so Alyssa knocked again.
"Who is it?!" a male voice called out.
"Mikey, open the damn door. It's Lyssa," she rubbed the back of her legs. The lactic acid already worked its way there.
Mikey opened the door, grim look on his 19 year old face, "You know what f*cking time it is?"
"No, the cop didn't bother to tell me," she shoved passed him, plopping onto a well beaten up couch, "Listen, I'm only gunna crash here until social servises finds me."
"Crash here as long as you want, just let me have the goods first," he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands as he shut the door.
"All I got is a five on me," she pulled the bill from her back pocket and stuffed it into his hand.
"That'll do. Just sleep on the couch for now or something. I'll be in the other room," he shrugged as he yawned. He ruffled her messy long black and blue hair as he passed her and made his way into another room.
She yawned as she curled up on the coucj, tired muscles already giving out. She burned with hurt, a hurt she was used to living like this. Alyssa pulled her hood over her face, shutting her eyes. After a nuzzle to the couch and a few moments, she was back to her escape of slumber.
A bright light beamed across a sleeping face and a tussle pf black hair with light blues tied in. The light went away a moment before shining back into her face. Her brows furrowed as she started to resurface from slumber. Someone had pulled her away from her escape.
"Lyssa, is that you?" a gruff voice asked.
"Shove off."
"Why are you sleeping on this bench?" the voice asked again, now annoyed.
"Because its better than pavement," Alyssa said in a groggy matter-of-fact tone as she rubbed her eyes, the light forcing her to open them.
"You have a home, Lyssa."
"Not anymore. They told me they were going to ship me off, like the others."
The voice sighed, "Maybe if you acted right they wouldn't have to."
She squinted to see which cop it was. The bearer of the light was plump and starting to grey, moustache thicker and wider than any other. Bobby Johnson. He was the one that generally found her sleeping in one park or another. He had the graveyard shift. Poor guy, he had her to deal with.
"Don't give me that, Johnson," she shuffled upwards, sitting upright.
"I'll give you that until you're 18," he sneered at her before clicking off his flashlight and holstering it.
"Two long years."
"You don't go to school, barely go to work, never go home, sleep on park benches, and eat when you remember to. Just get your life together. It'd save us some trouble at the station."
Cops were all the same. They were on the outside looking in, never the other way around. They only knew what they could see. They didn't know anything about her.
"Are you gunna cuff me or not? Because I'm done jabbering," Alyssa held out her wrists, barely covered by a thin black hoodie in the cold November air. She was used to the cold.
"Lyssa, you know I can't arrest you."
"Good, because you would've had a helluva time chasing me down," She stood, walking down a pathway.
"Just go home, okay?" Johnson followed shortly after her.
"I'll be the judge of 'home', alright? I've got a place to stay. Don't worry about me."
Johnson stuck a five dollar bill in her hand, "Here, take the bus. I don't like the idea of you out walking alone this time of night."
"I slept on a park bench. I think I'll be okay," She slipped the bill into her well worn back pocket, "Thanks anyway."
He sighed, "Fine. Just stay out of trouble."
"I don't make promises," Alyssa said over her shoulder as Johnson shook his head and walked away.
She passed The Bean smiling a bit. Her reflection in it showed a tired, worn little girl, cold yet bright blue eyes too old for her 16 years. She frowned and walked away. Twenty minutes later she found herself infront of an old run down apartment building. She stumbled up the stairs and softly knocked on apartment 3B's door. There was slight movement from the inside, so Alyssa knocked again.
"Who is it?!" a male voice called out.
"Mikey, open the damn door. It's Lyssa," she rubbed the back of her legs. The lactic acid already worked its way there.
Mikey opened the door, grim look on his 19 year old face, "You know what f*cking time it is?"
"No, the cop didn't bother to tell me," she shoved passed him, plopping onto a well beaten up couch, "Listen, I'm only gunna crash here until social servises finds me."
"Crash here as long as you want, just let me have the goods first," he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands as he shut the door.
"All I got is a five on me," she pulled the bill from her back pocket and stuffed it into his hand.
"That'll do. Just sleep on the couch for now or something. I'll be in the other room," he shrugged as he yawned. He ruffled her messy long black and blue hair as he passed her and made his way into another room.
She yawned as she curled up on the coucj, tired muscles already giving out. She burned with hurt, a hurt she was used to living like this. Alyssa pulled her hood over her face, shutting her eyes. After a nuzzle to the couch and a few moments, she was back to her escape of slumber.