Celebrity Status [The Yearlings]

I always tried to chip in as much money as possible, but how much could a 14 year old boy like me achieve? I was on the streets, painting pictures of worthless scraps, dancing, or just begging people to spare any change. Today seemed like a better day, since a few nice people bought my paintings, and spared a few coins. I sat myself down against the bakery wall, and counted up all the money that I have earned today. Adding it all up, I was thinking if I could get a steal, I could get us some meat. Marchello would maybe even be proud of me for once, and not just look at me as a disturbance.


I lifted my slim, muscular body from the stone cold wall, and sluggishly made my way towards the only place I knew sold meat. I stepped into the building, scanning the area for any other people inside the establishment. It was dead empty, and I walked up to the counter, where a slightly obese lady would be standing there, eying me. I would cringe at the lady, since she most likely thinks I am here to steal some of her profit. I hated having that feeling of looking like a bum, even though I know I am one. I stared into the woman's eyes, and said in the most serious tone I could.. Excuse me Ma'am, could I get a nice slab of meat? The lady stared at me for a second, looking over me like I was the meat she was going to pick. The woman dragged herself to the back area, and I could hear some bumping sounds in the room where the woman went. I stood there, trying to entertain myself while the woman gets the meat for me. I eyed a spider that was making a web at the top corner of the building, and just kept staring at it until the lady came back with a nice, big, juicy piece of meat. That will be 50$, boy. I did not like how she referred to me as a boy, but I knew I didn't want to fight with her, since I really did need that slab of meat. I reached into my pockets, and put out all the money I had, praying it was enough. The lady would nod her head, and hand me the meat. I was so happy, and I couldn't wait to take it home to the family.

I walked towards the door, creaking it open slowly, and stepping out of the building. I noticed Marchello walking out of the bakery near-by, carrying a few loaves of bread with him. Perfect! We can have some meat sandwiches tonight! I haven't ate such an amazing meal in such a long time. I'm used to having no lunch, or even no dinner some days. I walked over to Marc, hoping I would make him happy, and maybe even get a chance to just hang out with him if he knew I got enough money to buy some meat. I made it over to Marc, and I looked at the breads he bought. One of them looked like plain bread, and the other was Sourdough. I hate Sourdough more then I hate the Games, but I know Marc likes it, so I didn't ask about the Sourdough. I looked up at Marc, since he was way taller than me, and I would have the meat in plain sight. I gulped slightly, and said.. I managed to get some meat..

DECEMBER NIEVE

Doing
Thinking
Talking
Listening

Life as I knew it would never be the same again. I knew it, too, which made it all the more terrifying. So much had changed in the past year, and after being knocked around so much, confused and alone for the most of it, I had nowhere else to turn to anymore. The walls of reality were quickly closing in around me, suffocating me with the whisper of loneliness so tantalisingly placed on the tips of the wind. I longed to scream, but as I opened my mouth no sound came out at all. It wasn’t worth the waste of breath anyway. Being the silent mourner that I was, I knew I would cope better if I was left to look after myself and continue the difficult path ahead silently, without disagreement and sometimes even against my own will.

Sitting on the hard, cold ground, knees held close to me in the iron grip of my small hands, I longed for my old life. I’d had everything then, and since being here I’d had to learn to adapt in a less sheltered way. I’d always been on the outside of the group, but maybe that was my own fault. When I’d first been found, living on the street, half dead and starved, I’d graciously accepted the offer to join the rest of the group. People who were just like me. Abandoned, broken, lost and confused, nowhere left to turn to, with no possible way out of this hell we had no choice but to live in. Except for maybe suicide.

Was it wrong for a 13 year old to even know the word? Probably, but isn’t there so much wrong with this situation as it is? Yes, I’ll admit, those months spent out on the street after being abandoned by the only people who cared enough to look after me, before they decided to send me off to the community home were hell. Maybe I would have been better off staying at the community home instead of leaving, but I had to get away from that hell hole. The thought of even committing suicide was revolting, but it wasn’t like I hadn’t tried it before.

There was that one time, in winter. It had been freezing the previous night, and I had spent it out in the gutters. The previous day I’d had to sell my guitar, the only thing left that I really cared about, in order to get some money, but I had to save it. I couldn’t blow it all at once. As I awoke from my zombie-like state, noticing the cold pavement underneath me which turned my mind numb, I aimlessly started walking. I didn’t know where I was heading, or where the desire to travel had come from. But I was acting purely on instinct, and as I stood in the middle of the road, waiting for the cars to come at me and whisk all my troubles away, it was only then that my mind was working again. If I had been two seconds later, I wouldn’t even be here, my frame being so small and fragile that nobody would have seen me anyway.

This was only one mysterious memory that nobody knew of, a secret from my past too horrific to reveal. And there were more, but I wasn’t going to tell anybody about them, now was I?

Since I’d joined the other 11 kids, the Yearlings, I’d hardly been sociable, only making myself present when meal times came around. I would spend most of the time locked up in a dark room by myself, but occasionally I would come out, sometimes to admire February and how she handled things so well around here, who I strived to be like one day. Sometimes to socialise with June, who seemed like the older sister I’d never had. She never pressed me about much, which I was relieved to know. Sometimes I would even emerge out of my shell and muster up the courage to go and talk to October.

It was difficult to tell whether I even liked him or not. I hardly ever spent time with him, but when I did I felt uncontrollably happy. Is that what love is? Being with someone who can make you so happy when nothing else can? If that was the case, you could say I was in love with my guitar. Which I had been up until I’d had to sell it, something I’d always regret. I’d promised to myself that once I was old enough and could leave the others I’d find another one, and start playing again. It was the best way I could think of to express my feelings, and get them out in the open, out of my crowded mind. I didn’t think anyone else knew about the guitar being my only real friend, but I knew that June had some idea of my singing ability. She’d caught me a few times, before I’d abruptly cut off, embarrassed for being so foolish.

I looked around at the 11 faces around me from my crouched up position on the floor. They’d become my family over the time spent with them, but I didn’t really know what a family even was. How could I even make such a comparison with something that you’ve never known before? Because I never knew my parents. I’ll never know what a family truly is. They’ve all I’ve got though. I think that’s the scary thing. And I don’t even know these people; how could I possibly hope to survive here.

I couldn’t. I’d be forever trapped in my own little world, never wanting to let anyone in. At first they’d tried, but saw how hopeless it was and gave up their pursuits to find about more about me. I can’t blame them. They’ve got better things to worry about than a pathetic 13 year old who spends more time in her own mind than she does breathing.

That’s what it feels like now. I’m going to be trapped here forever, and that’s the harsh truth.

We were all sitting around the table now, well except for February and I who were still doing the finishing touches on the food. I was slicing the bread and February was placing the meat onto a plate. I passed her the plate of now-sliced bread. "Here, you take this to them. I'll cut the meat." I can be nice if I try, but it was mainly because Aibrean had come home and I wanted to show her that I was responsible. And I guess to get away from September, who had just come up to February. Thankfully she hadn't seen me, yet. She's nice and all, but she's way too attached to me. If Aibrean saw how September looked at me it might make her think I like September instead of her. I sighed, it was the story of my life, no matter what I did nothing seemed to go my way.

At least we had meat tonight, thanks to October. Now, October was another thorn in my side. It's not that he's a bad kid, it's just that he and Aibrean have such a close relationship. Maybe Aibrean doesn't like him, but he probably likes her. I mean who wouldn't, she's beautiful and she has the most amazing laugh and the brightest eyes and... She's just amazing, alright. But October is three years younger, though that hasn't stopped anyone before. Age isn't too big of a deal, I guess. I suppose I'm just trying to find excuses for myself because... because I'm jealous, there I admitted it. I'm jealous of October because he and Aibrean are so close. I'm lucky if I get one of her pretty smiles.

I shake my head and pick up the steak knife we had bought a while ago. It was scratched from when Julyan had dropped it into the sink with the other cutlery and it had hit another knife. But it still worked fine. In fact, it would have taken me twice as long to slice up the meat, which smelled delicious I might add. For all that I resent October's relationship with Aibrean, the kid has an eye for food.

Once I finished cutting up the meat into equal portions, I opened one of the cupboards and took out the three apples I had stashed from my last pay. They were still quite fresh. I grabbed a different knife and sliced them each into quarters. Nothing like a nice slice of apple to go with a good bit of meat. I put the slices in a bowl and took them and the meat out to the others, setting both on the table. Looking to February, I nodded to say that that was all the food. "There's one apple slice for each of us, so that's all you get. I don't want anyone to miss out."

See Aibrean, I am grown up.

•••narrating
•••talking
•••thinking

Watching the others gather round always brought a smile to my face. I loved these people, they were my family. Why else would I sacrafice so much. Little December seemed embarrassed about something so I waved her over to sit next to me. My eyes scanned the room but I didn't see Gus. I hated not having my best friend home. Sometimes he was more important to my happiness than January. January never understood the pain, he'd always come up with a hairbrained plan to "fix" things so I wouldn't be sad. Gus...Gus got it though. The times I needed to vent he was the one I needed. He'd listen intently and hold my hand letting me spew out all the bothersome things. It worried me that it was getting dark and he hadn't appeared. I hope he's okay, let him be okay I thought silently.

Taking a deep breath,"Did everyone wash up?" I question smiling a knowing smile at Julyan and January. The chemical smell was still radiating off them and I hoped they had at least cleaned their hands. As Marc sliced and served the apples, I noticed that Abrien, Decemeber, and September were eyeing them with hunger. I took the knife slicing my tiny section into third and handed it over. Smiling I said "Gotta watch my figure!" I left my sandwich open faced, saving the bread for whoever else wanted it and cut my meat in half as well giving a little to the younger ones.

Marc and January eyed me like I was crazy, but they knew they wouldn't be able to talk me out of it. It was my food and I could do with it what I wanted. What I wanted was for the little ones to enjoy our special meal. January sat on the other side of me and I squeezed his hand under the table. Tonight our family would be full.