Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Before I could respond, a cop car pulled into the drive. He gave me a quick nod, then whispered, “Good luck.”
It was like a nightmare that I couldn't wake up from.
The pain was so unbearable I thought I would actually die from it. I’d never felt so lost or alone and had no idea what I was going to do without them. But I had to figure it out, and I had to figure it out fast. The paramedic was right about the police. They had all kinds of questions and were about to call in a social worker when I lied and told them I could stay with my grandmother.
I knew it was only a temporary fix, but it gave me a chance to forge a plan.
The policemen made their report, then waited as I went inside and packed a bag. They wanted to drive me over to my grandmother’s, but thankfully, I was able to convince them that I could get there on my own.
Over the next few weeks, I kept my head low and tried to stay off anyone’s radar. I took what I could from the house, then spent the next couple of months living out of my car. It wasn’t ideal, but I was able to manage—until I lost my job at the theatre. With no money coming in, I was in a mess, especially with winter rolling in. I struggled to eat, much less keep gas in my car.
When things got really bad, I started searching dumpsters. Sometimes, I found things I could sell or a bit to eat that got me through a tough spot. I got pretty good at it and could get in and out without anyone spotting me, but one night, I got careless.
I was cold and hungry, so I decided to drive out to Danvers Bar and Grill. I figured they’d have something that might tide me over until morning. Like many times before, I pulled my car around back and waited until the coast was clear, then I hopped out and rushed over to the side door of the dumpster. I was digging deep, looking for anything that didn’t look like absolute mush, when I heard a couple of men talking in the distance.
At first, I ignored them and kept digging. But then, the voices got closer, and I realized they were talking about me. I quickly stepped away from the dumpster and started towards my car. I didn’t get far before one of them asked, “Hey, kid. You alright?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“You sure about that? ‘Cause it doesn’t look that way.”
I turned, and my blood ran cold when I got a good look at the two men walking in my direction. They were both massive with beards and tattoos, and they had these fierce expressions that made them look intimidating as hell. I was terrified to be out there alone in the dark with them, but I did my best to hide my fear as I answered, “Yeah, I’m fine. I was... ah, just looking for my keys.”
“Is that right?” I could tell by the look on his face he didn’t believe me, but he didn’t push. Instead, he asked, “You got a name?”
“Yeah, I’m um... Sabrina.”
“Sabrina, huh?” Again, it was clear he knew I was lying, but he didn’t call me on it. I hoped he would just let it go, but no such luck. “Your folks around?”
“Yeah, they’re at home.”
“So, if we were to take you home...”
If they went to my house, they’d find the front door covered in yellow safety tape and a completely barren house. My breath caught at the thought, and before I realized what I was saying, I told them, “You can’t do that.”
“Oh, yeah? Why not?”
“Because they’re...” my voice trailed off. “You just can’t.”
“That’s what I thought. You got any idea where they are?”
“Look, I’m sorry if I did something wrong here. Like I said, I was just looking for my keys. I didn’t mean any harm.”
“You’re not in any trouble, kid,” he tried to reassure me. “We’re just trying to make sure you’re okay.”
“I told you. I’m fine.”
“Yeah, you did.” He glanced over at his friend, and then they both turned their attention back to me. “But I’m not buying it.”
I needed these guys to stop pushing, so I shrugged and sassed, “Sounds like a personal problem to me.”
“We’re just trying to help,” his friend replied with a strained voice.
“I didn’t ask for your help.”
“No, you didn’t. But I’ve been in your shoes. I know how hard it can be.”
“You don’t know anything about me or what I’ve been through!” I appreciated the fact that they were trying to help, but I was proud and scared. I feared their kind of help would have me tossed into foster care, and I’d spent the last six months doing everything I could to make sure that didn’t happen. Hoping that they’d finally get the hint, I rolled my eyes, then started to storm off. “Just leave me alone.”