HOME | DD

Description
OLIVIA

It confused me, that they took me in. At first, I thought nothing of it. What could I lose if I lived with another family? After close observation, though, I realized it was less of a family than a couple of kids trying to live on their own. They couldn't even be related - Limpo, with his caramel-colored bird's nest and creamy mocha brown eyes; Malloon, with his mahogany-brown spikes and stone gray eyes. Which meant they were in the same state I was in.
I sank into my pillow, hoping it would muffle out my erratic sobs of confusion, emotion, and I don't even know what.
It's hard for kids to live independently, especially with child labor laws and such. That's why they're taken to foster care, which is pretty much dead in this town. The only option is an orphanage, and the one nearby has a bad reputation. If you stick out and you're undesirable, you don't make it - like Annie, in a way. The caretakers there have to worry about sufficient space and food, much less a scrap of meat like you. So I didn't go there. Neither did they.
You're extra baggage. They won't make it with you under their roof, I heard in my head.
I have nowhere else to go. I'll find a way to help somehow.
What exactly will you do? It's not like the world's an open job market, especially for kids.
I pressed my face against the pillow and enjoyed the feeling of it. Warmth is one of the most underrated senses. I felt like a baby in a spongy incubator, one in a million yet uniquely loved. I missed feeling that.
I calculated the time between when I first left home and what today was. A year. I'd been away from home a year. I've never been away from home for more than a day.
I miss you.

"Mm..." The smell of love, joy, peace, kindness, pecan pie, chocolate, and every other good thing in the world greeted me in the morning. I drifted out of my bed and floated through the cloudlike carpet in a trance in the direction of the aroma. When my eyes took the liberty to savor the sight of this awe-striking fragrance, it met a steaming bowl of breakfast stuff and hot milk. Anticlimactic, much?
"...Can I help you?" Limpo stared at me, probably horrified by my behavior and looks.
"S-sorry. Smells good."
"Probably just the starvation talking." He poured some of the stuff into a bowl and handed it to me. "Buen provecho."
"Gracias," I said, naming the only Spanish word I knew as I sauntered to the table. Ah, glorious food! As I ate, I felt the granola/cereal/blueberries/whatever the heck was in that become sweet heaven in my mouth, and I nearly sang in pure joy. Side effect of starvation: humming church hymns while eating.
"So," Malloon, who was at the table, said between bites. "How old are you?"
"Nine...?" I answered uncertainly.
"I'm ten, the chef over there's nine, too. What's your full name?
"Olivia Maria McLinden." Was this some kind of background check?
"Malloon Seer and Limpo...what was it?"
"Lorenz," Limpo answered. "Now that that's out of the way, let's just finish eating. It tastes like vomit when it's cold."
"Lovely," I replied. It didn't matter anyway; I'd already finished.
I returned to my other dimension of thoughts while they finished. A sudden voice brought me back to reality, but I didn't make out the words. "Huh?"
"I said you'll need a job if you're going to stay," Malloon answered.
"What? I can stay?"
"If you can work, then we can pay off the food costs and clothes and all that junk. It has to be a stay-at-home job with, like, no talking. Emails are fine, but talking might give away that you're not a 28-year-old woman trying to earn extra money."
"Y-yeah, of course!"
"And we'll need to buy a bed or something, since the couch is a disaster zone."
"Really, it's fine -"
Limpo interjected. "You slept on the couch? And you didn't, like, die from suffocation? Malloon, are you that cruel?"
"Well, was she going to sleep on the floor?"
"That might've been better, actually."
I laughed, and all the tension in my nerves left me. I had a place to stay again. I thought of starting a little garden on the balcony and growing it like at home. I considered that online speech-to-text thing my...I mean, I heard was a well-paid job. Maybe I was an optimist for thinking that I could finally have a nice life after a year, but I didn't care. I took my chances.

Description
OLIVIA

It confused me, that they took me in. At first, I thought nothing of it. What could I lose if I lived with another family? After close observation, though, I realized it was less of a family than a couple of kids trying to live on their own. They couldn't even be related - Limpo, with his caramel-colored bird's nest and creamy mocha brown eyes; Malloon, with his mahogany-brown spikes and stone gray eyes. Which meant they were in the same state I was in.
I sank into my pillow, hoping it would muffle out my erratic sobs of confusion, emotion, and I don't even know what.
It's hard for kids to live independently, especially with child labor laws and such. That's why they're taken to foster care, which is pretty much dead in this town. The only option is an orphanage, and the one nearby has a bad reputation. If you stick out and you're undesirable, you don't make it - like Annie, in a way. The caretakers there have to worry about sufficient space and food, much less a scrap of meat like you. So I didn't go there. Neither did they.
You're extra baggage. They won't make it with you under their roof, I heard in my head.
I have nowhere else to go. I'll find a way to help somehow.
What exactly will you do? It's not like the world's an open job market, especially for kids.
I pressed my face against the pillow and enjoyed the feeling of it. Warmth is one of the most underrated senses. I felt like a baby in a spongy incubator, one in a million yet uniquely loved. I missed feeling that.
I calculated the time between when I first left home and what today was. A year. I'd been away from home a year. I've never been away from home for more than a day.
I miss you.

"Mm..." The smell of love, joy, peace, kindness, pecan pie, chocolate, and every other good thing in the world greeted me in the morning. I drifted out of my bed and floated through the cloudlike carpet in a trance in the direction of the aroma. When my eyes took the liberty to savor the sight of this awe-striking fragrance, it met a steaming bowl of breakfast stuff and hot milk. Anticlimactic, much?
"...Can I help you?" Limpo stared at me, probably horrified by my behavior and looks.
"S-sorry. Smells good."
"Probably just the starvation talking." He poured some of the stuff into a bowl and handed it to me. "Buen provecho."
"Gracias," I said, naming the only Spanish word I knew as I sauntered to the table. Ah, glorious food! As I ate, I felt the granola/cereal/blueberries/whatever the heck was in that become sweet heaven in my mouth, and I nearly sang in pure joy. Side effect of starvation: humming church hymns while eating.
"So," Malloon, who was at the table, said between bites. "How old are you?"
"Nine...?" I answered uncertainly.
"I'm ten, the chef over there's nine, too. What's your full name?
"Olivia Maria McLinden." Was this some kind of background check?
"Malloon Seer and Limpo...what was it?"
"Lorenz," Limpo answered. "Now that that's out of the way, let's just finish eating. It tastes like vomit when it's cold."
"Lovely," I replied. It didn't matter anyway; I'd already finished.
I returned to my other dimension of thoughts while they finished. A sudden voice brought me back to reality, but I didn't make out the words. "Huh?"
"I said you'll need a job if you're going to stay," Malloon answered.
"What? I can stay?"
"If you can work, then we can pay off the food costs and clothes and all that junk. It has to be a stay-at-home job with, like, no talking. Emails are fine, but talking might give away that you're not a 28-year-old woman trying to earn extra money."
"Y-yeah, of course!"
"And we'll need to buy a bed or something, since the couch is a disaster zone."
"Really, it's fine -"
Limpo interjected. "You slept on the couch? And you didn't, like, die from suffocation? Malloon, are you that cruel?"
"Well, was she going to sleep on the floor?"
"That might've been better, actually."
I laughed, and all the tension in my nerves left me. I had a place to stay again. I thought of starting a little garden on the balcony and growing it like at home. I considered that online speech-to-text thing my...I mean, I heard was a well-paid job. Maybe I was an optimist for thinking that I could finally have a nice life after a year, but I didn't care. I took my chances.