My life could never be called nice. It wasn't even a bit pleasant. In fact, it couldn't even have been described as a life worth living. Being unwanted never helped anything.
I was born when my parents were 18 years old. Neither were what could be defined as nice people, so they worked together perfectly. When I was three, the beatings stared. By the time I was eight I had run away from home and for some unknown reason my parents cared enough to call the police. Well, now that I think about it, they probably just didn't want the neighbors to think that they had killed me.
I had no relatives that I knew of, at least. Mostly I just lived on the street; stealing when I could, begging most of the time. Because of the stealing, the police seemed to have no intention of bringing me home, mostly they just wanted me locked up.
Most of the time when I was younger, I had no food. For most people, food and water are things of unimportance. You can just go to the tap or look inside your fridge. You never really think about how good you've got it. I've never really had it good, so nothing in my life was ever taken for granted. But that first year away from home I was struggling to live each day. Eventually I picked up a few tricks and was able to live well enough.
But, I knew where I would end up in life. Most likely I'd be pregnant by the time I was seventeen and then I'd be dead by eighteen; a simple, quiet existence. No one would mourn the death of another street urchin, the high-class might even be happy, one less person disturbing their perfect lives.
Here I am, a sixteen-year-old girl, contemplating her death. It shows what kind of world this place has become, one where the rich keep climbing and the poor keep dying.
To escape notice from various forms of law enforcement and grudges from street gangs, I've traveled the entirety of Great Britain, sneaking onto cargo ships to get to Ireland, hitchhiking, walking…
I've had a lot of names over the years. I was christened Fesso when I was six months old. I think my darling mother realized that I wasn't going to die and I should then probably have a name. Fesso means stupid in Italian, so she probably thought it was so creative. Years after, I went by various names, most were forgettable. There was no need for anything glamorous, I didn't want people to remember me after I had robbed them blind. When I was fifteen, I decided that I should probably have a real name, just so there would be something to put on a gravestone, or, at the very least, for the toe tag when my body was inevitably found.
I'm 4'10", which is very helpful, since I can slip into any crowd easily. I have ringleted light brown hair and brown eyes. Having nondescript features helps keep the perverted hoboes away though and goes along with the inconsequential name, all helping to keep me going on with my life unnoticed.
Today I was wandering and looking around for anyone who wasn't watching their wallet too closely when I notice four boys standing a little ways ahead on the sidewalk. By the quality of their clothes they looked well off and were looking around with confused looks on their faces. Obviously they hadn't seemed to realize they were in the wrong part of town. Stupid tourists! I never felt guilty stealing from them, especially the ones who were too stupid to tuck their money far away, so little pick-pocketers such as myself, wouldn't take their bills. Still, even if they had tucked it away, I am a damn good pickpocket.
Slowly I walked closer to them. They were laughing as they strolled up the street. They seemed about my age and all were extremely good-looking. Ignoring their looks, I focused on their pockets. One didn't have any, so he was no good. The other two I wouldn't be able to reach to well, so that left the fourth boy.
He was probably the handsomest of the foursome, with black hair to his chin, extremely fit, and woman-charming looks. I walked a little faster to catch up with their long legs.
When I was close enough, I got ready. Pretending to trip, I fell into the boy's side. My hand slipped into his pocket and out, before he even realized I had fallen into him.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" I cried, acting out the skit I had perfected a million times before. "Damn Asteria, you are so stupid!" I pretended to seem mad at myself, as the four boys looked at me. "I'm sorry, I'm just so clumsy, I can barely walk!"
"It's okay," The boy I had stolen from, said. "Doesn't matter."
I glanced up into his face and was taken aback for a second. Something showed in his grey eyes, something that I had only ever seen in my own eyes. There was sadness and pain in those eyes, things that a rich, snobby tourist wouldn't know anything about. Suddenly, I felt bad for stealing from this boy; it seemed like robbing myself.
"I'll just be going," I said, casting my eyes downward and started walking away.
"Hot," One of the boys said quietly as I left. I rolled my eyes and ignored him, quickly hurrying away.
When I was out of sight, I slipped behind a small house, ran through the backyard and hid behind the bushes to watched the boys. I loved watching people find out that they've just been robbed; it's the only entertainment that I can get in this fucked up world.
"So then," One of the boys was saying. "She started screaming and cursing me! Even though I just stopped the Bludger from smacking into her!"
I scrunched up my eyebrows in confusion. Did cursing mean that she had started yelling profanities at him? And what was a Bludger? Though I didn't get what they meant, living on the streets brings you in close proximity with the craziest of the crazies. I had heard my fair share of oddities.
"Damn Prongs, that girl really hates you!" The boy that I'd robbed said to his friend.
"She doesn't hate me! She really loves me, she just doesn't know it yet!"
"Sure Prongs, whatever," Another one of the boys said.
Bored with the confusing conversation going on in front of the bush, I examined the wallet clasped in my hand. It was made of some kind of hide, one that I had never seen before, though I've nabbed hundreds of wallets and purses. Opening the wallet, I cursed quietly. There was nothing in it, except for some weird coins from some foreign place, and a tightly folded rectangle piece of some heavy kind of paper. I examined the coins, but they were like nothing I'd ever seen before. So, I investigated the paper…it was blank. Why would he have such heavy blank paper in his wallet? What was the point?
"Hey, you guys want some food? I can change some galleons to muggle money." I looked up, what's muggle? But I watched, smiling slightly as the boy reached into his pocket and tried to find his wallet. He stuck his hand in his other pocket, but, of course, he couldn't find anything.
"What's wrong, Padfoot?" The shorter boy next to him asked.
"My wallets not here! The map was in that!"
While the boys looked around the street for the wallet, I looked closer at the paper in my hand. A map? Bending close to it, my breath warmed the paper.
"What the hell are they talking about? How is this a map?" I said quietly.
Before my eyes I watched as spider-think writing filled the paper. Writing appeared across the front, declaring it the 'Marauder's Map.' I would like to say that this was the strangest thing that I had ever seen, but unfortunately it wasn't. Strange things always seemed to mysteriously happen around me. It was one of the reasons why my father was always so upset with me, but they were hardly anything I could control, especially at the age of seven. When I was thirteen I had even made a cop punch himself, which would have been funny, if not for the fact that it terrified me.
Looking back at the map, I could see that it seemed to show a building or school of some sort, since their were classrooms labeled. A few dots moved around on the paper, like tiny bugs, each with a name under it. Looking closely, I could see that the dot labeled Albus Dumbledore was pacing in what looked to be an office.
If these boys could seemingly make strange things happen, did that mean that I wasn't along? If there was an answer to the reason behind the things I could do, then I had to find out more. And if the only way I was going to get it would be to follow these boys, then I would.
"It's not here Sirius." One of them said.
"It's not over here either, Black." Another said.
I filed away the tidbit of knowledge I had gained with knowing one of their names and peered cautiously back through the bushes.
"Hey! What about the girl that ran into you? She could've taken it!" The smaller boy suggested.
"Seriously, Wormtail, she looked like she couldn't hurt a fly." Sirius replied; I narrowed my eyes. I hated when people acted as though I was a stupid, naïve, little girl.
"Come on guys, we'll look around, but if anyone sees that girl we need to just make sure she didn't take it." The boy, who they called Prongs, stated as they walked back the way they had come.
That night I sat on a park bench, examining the map some more. It was so cool looking. The boy's nicknames were on the top, which proved that they had made it. The details were so intricate and the school seemed so interesting. But what school was it? And did it have anything to do with the things I could do?
For a week, I stayed in Wales. I had tried to follow the boys, but they had gotten into a car later on and disappeared. It was upsetting, but there was nothing I could do about it, like everything else in my life. After a while, I got bored of the dog poop smell of the park, which was where I slept. In the morning of the day that I had decided to leave, a police officer woke me up.
"You can't sleep here! Go home!" His sharp voice echoed through my sleepy head.
"I can sleep wherever the bloody hell I want!" No one should mess with me in the morning; I get very nasty.
"Excuse me? Alright missy, you're coming with me!" The officer attempted to grab my arm, but I moved just in time.
"Gosh, let me sleep!" I moved away from him and sat down on another bench, a little way away.
"Now miss," The officer was trying, and failing, to be nice to me. When he saw that I wasn't going to come with him, he spoke into his microphone. "Hey boys, I got a bit of a problem with a runaway. Over."
"Really, if you can't handle a runaway then you're not a very good officer." I smirked as the officer lunged for me…and missed.
I could of easily left him there, but I needed some exercise and this was just what I wanted.
A siren came through the sleeping block. Why they needed to turn on the siren, I have no idea! The cop car pulled up on the street and two officers started towards us.
I noticed early-risers stopping on the street to stare at us. A few people peeked out of their apartment and hotel buildings, having been woken up by the sound of the siren. It was never good to have this many witnesses, especially when I was trying to lay low, but I was never good at running away from a fight and police officers are always my favorite to pick on. If they had been doing their jobs, then the world would be a nicer place.
When you live on the street, you have to learn to fight. Pick-pocketers easily rob from other pick-pocketers. I'd had to escape before, so fighting was nothing new; it would be getting away from the crowd that would be the hard part.
"Hey Padfoot! It's the girl that stole your wallet."
A voice came from the crowd. It was one of the boys I had robbed from. Now I really needed to get out of here.
The two officers joined their comrade and came towards me.
"Now," I said in a little girl voice. "When you're trying to catch someone, you're supposed to split up and corner them, because otherwise, I can do this."
I ran around the men, quick as lighting, and kicked the middle one hard in the back, he feel over, pulling one of his comrades with him. The other was easily dispatched with a kick to groin when he turned to face me.
A couple of people in the now growing crowd laughed at the fallen officers.
"Dang, Prongs, she can kick butt!" Sirius yelled, causing more laughter from the surrounding people.
I smiled sweetly at the crowd and walked away, dusting off my hands. Beefy hands closed around my ankle. Turning around, I smiled sweetly at the officer who was still holding his crouch and looked pained. Returning to the stupid girl voice I said, "Now, you forgot to cover yourself again!" And I kicked him, square in the face. Moaning in pain, he keeled over, as I laughed and skipped away. None of the crowd seemed particularly bothered to catch me, so they dispersed.
As I passed the police car, I noticed a box of donuts in the front seat. Really, how cliché was that? Pulling a bobby pin from my hair, I picked the door's lock. Police cars are stupid if they can be picked that easily! I grabbed the box, shut the door, and walked away, not caring that those who had stuck around were staring at me open mouthed.
"Ta ta," I said as I passed them, munching happily on a chocolate donut.
"Wait!" I turned around to see Sirius and the other three boys pushing through the people towards me. "Did you take my wallet?"
"What wallet?" I said in a very innocent sounding voice.
"My wallet you stole from me a week ago!" After seeing me take down three police officers and rob a police car I think he was starting to doubt that I was as innocent as I seemed to portray.
"Oh you mean this wallet?" I said, pulling it out of my pocket. "It's very nice looking. The money in it was no use, but the map was quite intriguing!" I threw the wallet at his stunned face.
"You're a witch?" He said, sounding very confused.
"Now there's no use calling me names. I just returned your wallet and I usually don't do that."
"How did you work the map if you're not a witch?" He looked utterly bewildered.
"All you have to do is say 'map' and it works. Now I really must be going! Ta!" His friends had joined him now, and they all looked very confused.
But I just went off, thinking I'd never see them dimwits again. No matter if they could do strange things or not, I valued my freedom more. So, with a sigh I turned down an alley and disappeared leaving four confused boys and three very angry police officers.
