Dumpster Diving

It's getting colder. I've got to find warmer clothes before the snow comes or else I'm going to freeze to death… And to think I used to like winter.

"Ugh. So stiff."

Heather groaned as she slowly wriggled out of her nest of blankets, flinching when she accidentally brushed against the cold concrete her movements had uncovered. Despite the many blankets she had managed to scrounge up, it still wasn't enough to keep her body heat from leeching into the floor beneath her. Since the end of summer, Heather had even begun sleeping in layers of clothes. Every day was getting steadily colder as autumn grew closer to its end. All the leaves had fallen and the city's few trees looked like skeletons. Due to the building's many broken windows cold filtered in and made Heather feel like she was squatting in a fridge.

She looked down at her cheap watch, unsurprised by the time it read out. The beam of sunlight by her makeshift pillow had already clued her in on the time.

"9:47, huh? Guess I won't be going to school today, not that it really matters. There's no way I'm passing finals next week. I'm too far behind, but who knows? Maybe I'll just repeat the grade. Better to be a homeless super senior than a homeless high school dropout."

With that she sighed and forced her stiff body to move, talking to herself all the while. Ever since she started living like this a few months ago there was no one else to talk to. Or rather, there was no one to talk to about her situation. If she told anyone about how she was an orphan living in an abandoned warehouse, Child Protective Services would swoop in and put her in foster care.

"No thank you. The last thing I need is some stranger using me to milk money from the government. Sixteen is the legal age to drop out of school and start working, so why isn't it the legal age to be an adult, hm?"

Heather sighed again. She had already made that speech to herself countless times and she was buying it less and less. What point was there in living like this? At any time she could walk into a police station and they would put her in foster care, but Heather couldn't stand the thought of being looked down on in pity. Worse would be if they looked at her with indifference.

She shook her head in an attempt to push back her nagging thoughts. Limp hair brushed against her cheeks and neck, a reminder that she hadn't bathed in days.

Her stomach rumbled.

"Alright, since it's too late to go to school I can't get the free lunch there. Guess I'll check the dumpsters behind Antonio's Pizza, then find a public restroom to wash up in."

With a plan decided on, Heather pulled her backpack over her shoulder and set off for the nearby pizza parlor.

Living in New York City you get used to walking everywhere. And if you can't afford a taxi you learn to take shortcuts, namely cutting through alleyways and hopping fences. It had taken Heather multiple attempts to figure out how to hop a fence without ripping her clothes, but now she swung over the gate with practiced ease, pulling her oversized coat closer to her body to avoid it from catching on the metal wire. She landed softly beside her target and quietly lifted the lid open, standing on tip-toe to do it. The stench of garbage and spoiled food wafted up her nose but it didn't faze her. She had long since gotten used to the rancid smell and Heather heard her stomach growl at the prospect of food.

She leaned in with her arm bracing against the other lid and due to her short stature, her feet lifted off the ground to lightly thumped against the metal container. Heather had taken off her fingerless gloves in an attempt to keep at least one article of clothing clean. Her bare hand brushed aside the inedible trash.

It took a bit of digging, but finally Heather finally found something aside from discarded onion skins and sauce covered refuse. The ripped up pizza box on top of it had kept the worst of the garbage from coming in contact with the slightly burnt veggie pizza. She let out a whoop.

"Booyah bitches! And who said pizza couldn't be healthy? This'll last me at least two days. Oh yeah!"

She picked up the pizza to put it in a grocery bag in her back pack when she noticed a green light peeking through the garbage.

"What the…?"

Heather's curiosity piqued and she dug deeper into the dumpster. Her knuckles brushed against sticky glass. Twisting her wrist, she grabbed onto it and with some effort pulled it out. The force from yanking the thing out jostled her balance and she fell backwards with a grunt. Slightly miffed, Heather looked down at her prize. Annoyance was quickly replaced with wonder.

In her hands was a container of some kind. The thick liquid inside emitted a strong green light that shifted with the ooze. The container was a glass cylinder capped at both ends with clunky metal tops. Near the tips was a patch that changed from pink to purple in a steady rhythm. It was like nothing Heather had ever seen before, but somehow the shape of it was familiar. Her face tugged into a frown and her brow furrowed as she tried to figure out why she seemed to know the strange canister, but the answer wouldn't come to her. She gave up with a small growl of frustration.

"It's no good. I can't place it. Well, whatever it is, it'll come back to me eventually. For now I'll just keep it with me. It's got to be worth something if I can find a buyer."

She took off her grime covered coat and wrapped the container in it, then placed it carefully inside her large, military style backpack. Heather had enough layers underneath as well as a hoodie to protect her from the November chill. Not that it mattered much, these days she was always cold, even with the coat.

Her stomach growled again, reminding her that she needed to eat. Retrieving the neglected pizza, Heather broke off only two slices. She forced herself to eat the food slowly, biting into the crust first. It was a trick she learned to feel fuller faster. Once she was done, she wrapped the remaining slices in a grocery bag and made sure to put the food in a different compartment in her backpack.

Heather climbed up the gate and gently lowered her backpack to the ground, taking extra care not to break the canister within. Once on the other side, she bent down to scratch away the bits of trash that had caught on her pants before sliding her backpack on again.

She looked down at her watch. It was barely past eleven, she had the rest of the day ahead of her. Heather straightened out her clothes and took off down the sidewalk. New York City towered around her.

A/N: I had to take down the story due to a glaring error I made in the second chapter. It hadn't been up long, so I hope it doesn't bother anyone too much. (I have since figured out how to edit chapter content, so that won't happen again.)

Also, a heads up: the first few chapters of this story will be heavily focused on my OC.