"So, I'm getting what?" I stared at the lawyer. he cleared his throat again and looked back down at the papers in his hand.
"Your parent's money. All of it." He said peering at me through his tiny glasses. Jeez, how I hates those glasses. I wanted to take them and- wait did he say money?
"…Their money, you mean that printed paper in the bank?" Man, I sounded like an idiot.
"Yes, Miss Williams. In your parent's will they said they wanted to give you all of their money."
"Great." I said, I got up from my chair and left his office.
My mother and father died. They died in a car crash back here to Los Angeles. I know, tragic, right? I could still remember that officer. "I'm sorry." The officer said. Like he's sorry. He must be dealing with death every week. I'm probably not the only person who lost a loved one in some disaster. I just didn't have a good day; my parents died. I'm only eighteen. I'll be turning nineteen soon, on the 14th of December. In two weeks. What a great birthday; millions of dollars and nothing to use it on, no one to enjoy it with. I don't have a sibling, I barely talk to my grandparents, my friends have their own families to care for. I'm alone. Totally alone.
I decided to walk home, it's probably late. I've been in that lawyer's office for a while. I breather in and out slowly. I looked around, it was quiet. I didn't hear the usual police sirens that came up late at night. The houses were all dark the windows shut. It was freezing.
I wasn't even thinking about that money I now inherit. I felt like it was nothing special. I have a job, I have money in my own bank account. Why would my parents want to give me this money? I barely see them. I am- I am nothing special.
I sighed and cross the street, heading to a liquor store. I need a beer. What? I'm legal. I have a fake ID in my pocket somewhere…
The bell door dinged as I walked inside the warm store. It smelled disgusting, like cigarettes. Gross. I nodded at the clerk and walked up an aisle, passing the chocolate bars and gummy worms. I looked in front of me, a long stack of Budweiser. I opened the fridge, grabbing one beer can at eye level. I noticed a tall man next to me. I glanced at him and walked back down the candy aisle. He followed me.
I dropped the can on the counter and digged for my dollar bills. I felt two of them and pulled them out. The clerk didn't ask me for an ID. She just scanned the beer and asked for the money. I handed it to her and walked out of the door.
I kept my fingertips at the top of the can. I opened it and took one big gulp. I smiled, the beer tasted great on my tongue. When's the last time I had a drink?
I walked across the street slowly, I could hear my footsteps; my Converse chucks scraping the cement.
"Almost home." I breathed. In the corner of my eye, I saw the same guy from the liquor store cross the street right after me. I ignored him, but walked slightly faster.
The man was behind me now and he was whistling a little tune. I put the beer can to my lips and took a small sip of my beer. The man's whistles got louder. How annoying.
I could see the door to my house now, I walked faster.
"Wait." The man said, his voice hoarse. I glanced back at him and he was a couple steps away from me. How'd he get here so fast?
I smiled politely at him, "I'm a little bit in a rush. Excuse me." I turned around but he grabbed my arm.
"I don't think so," I looked up at him, he had a hood on I couldn't see his eyes. He licked his lips, "Wow. You're beautiful." His breath smelled of strong alcohol.
I just stared at him, shaking his hand off. "Thanks, but I have to go."
"Hold on, hon." He ran for me. I ran, looking straight at my bright red door.
"Fuck off!" I yelled and I was at my door. I laid a hand to the doorknob but I was pulled by the man.
"Such language." He whispered. He held onto my waist and dragged me to the nearest alley. I screamed, calling for help. No on could hear me. What was he going to do?
He pushed me onto the floor, my beer can splattering its contents onto my face. He ripped my coat and shirt off, he pinned me down. I punched him, but the man did not do anything. He managed to slap me. I swore and tried to hit him once again.
He got up, kept me on the ground.
It was all a blur from there.
Pants down.
Getting up, zipping his pants back up and he smiled, looking down at me, "Thanks, hon." He turned around and ran.
I was on the ground. I was looking at my left, the silver trash can in my face. What a bastard.
I got up slowly, taking my clothes with me. I put on my coat, I was trembling. I pulled on my pants.
I sniffed, and walked to my front door, I looked for the key on the welcome mat, I took it and held it in my hands. I turned it over and over. I put it in the lock an turned it. I was welcomed with the same light breeze every time I opened the door.
I plopped down on my couch, forgetting that I left the door wide open. I probably slept then, but all I was remembered was that I stared at my mother's and father's face on a photograph. I remembered thinking the looked too happy.