A/N: I got this idea while at my father's house in Brooklyn, and I hope that this story will turn out different than my other ones c:
Without further ado, please enjoy!
There are no pairings in this story.
Rated T for Liz's potty mouth!
Summary: After Liz steals a diary from a young girl, she begins to tell her story of life in Brooklyn and just how hard life on the streets with only her little sister can be.
I do not own Soul Eater.
This journal belongs to:
Liz Thompson
January 8, Tuesday
Since I've never really had one of these before, I guess I'll start by saying that my name is Liz Thompson. me and my little sister, Patty, live on the streets of Brooklyn. We're runaways, we don't got parents. But who needs them, right?
I stole this from some kid's back pack today. It had a few lame-old entries, so I did the world a favor, ripped 'em out and burned 'em. It was hanging out of her bag, just calling for me, ya know? I had to take it.
I've been thinking, maybe this'll be published into a book one day and I'll be rich and famous. Then me and Patty will have someplace to live. That'd be nice. For now, we'll just have to stay like this.
Lots of people think that I don't mind not having a home. But truth is, I do want one. I want someplace where Patty and I can go any time and we'd always be welcome. That's what having a home is all about, right?
I still remember our parent's old apartment. It never really was in good shape, but I really liked it there, even when Mom would scream at Dad in the basement, even when I came home to find my mother passed out, drunk, on the floor. I even liked it when there was that flood and Patty and I went swimming. She was too young to remember it, but I do.
It was okay after the divorce. Dad was never home (Thank God) and Mom was drunk all the time. She passed out a lot and she never knew that I'd go into her purse and steal her cigarettes and money. I even took her credit card and Driver's license once, and I was gone with Patty for three days. She never found out.
After that, Dad came home with lots of money one day. The next day, the law came to our house and put him in prison. I don't know what happened, but I really don't care. He was a pretty shitty dad anyway.
He left this weird white powdery stuff on the counter once, and made me sniff it. He kinda shoved my face into it.
At the time, I didn't know what it was, and I assumed it was sugar or something. But I was dead wrong. I kinda liked it, but I wouldn't mind if I never saw it again. I don't ever want Patty to find out about it.
Right now, we've been homeless for about three years now. My parents didn't survive, which is honestly fine with me. All I need is Patty.
I often steal from stores and stuff. And of course, I steal from stupid, gullible people on the street that aren't from here and don't know how things work. Patty and I practically own the damn place. Nobody's gonna get through our part of town without seeing us first.
Patty helps me with the robberies. Since we're both pistols, I can wield her and she can wield me. We like to corner our vic- um, volunteer, and then take everything he's got. If he doesn't give it up, he ain't ever gonna see the light of day again, you can count on that. We're the Thompson sisters, and we aren't afraid of no one.
Right now, Patty's only eleven. I really wish that this didn't happen to her at such a young age. I'm only fourteen. But we're fine; we can take care of ourselves… right? I mean, we're both weapons, and we're tough…
Oh, who am I kidding? We can't keep this up for much longer. We're doomed.
-Liz