"Han? Han, what are you doin'?"

"Shhh. I'm finding stuff out for us," I whispered.

I was crouched by the bedroom door with my ear flat against it.

"Silly Han. You won't hear nothin' like that. Here," Greta skulled her water and handed me the glass. I put it against the door and my ear against it.

You'll find nothing out if you just talk and listen to adults. You gotta listen when you're not there. Especially when they think you're asleep.

The muddle of voices cleared up.

"Those brats of yours! You seen how they look at me?"

"Baby, they look at you with nothin' but love 'n' respect, you're their mother!"

"Yeah, bloody right."

There was a thump as one of them sat down. Jen sighed.

"I can't keep doing this, Greg. Every day, every single damn day! I don't go work double shift just so I can come home and be given the evil eye every which way I turn. I gotta get outta here."

"Baby, baby, don't be like that!"

"Make up your bloody mind, Greg. You've been shimmying about for months and now … I don't want to go, but …"

"Jen, c'mon. You know I love you but the kids–"

"You want kids? You can get more. I can give you more. But you only get true love once." I could just see her all slinking up and hanging off him.

"I can't–"

"Hey! I grew up on the streets and it did me no harm. I turned out alright, didn't I?"

"Yeah, babe. Real alright." Dadda stopped talking and I knew she and him had started slobbering all over each other and I could do without all that again.

"C'mon Greta, we're leaving."

I tried to drag her out of bed but she grabbed hold of the headboard. Her lips went all pouty and her eyes all stroppy.

"I'm not goin'. I want to sleep and you can keep pullin' and tuggin' 'til the cows come home 'cos I'm stayin'. Right here."

I yanked one last time then shrugged and grabbed my bag. I started shoving clothes and stuff into it.

"Fine then, princess. You can sleep 'til they chuck you out on the street. Then you'll be all alone with not even me there to help you."

"What! Han, they wouldn't, would they?" She scrambled out of her bed. "Han? Han, please don't leave me. Where are you goin'? I want to come with you."

"Where I'm going is none of your business, princess. And I wouldn't take you iffin you paid me."

I glanced at the rest of the room. Two bare beds, a chest of drawers with one drawer empty – all my clothes were in my bag. There were no toys or that; they'd all been sold after Mom died when Jen came. There was nothing left for me.

Except Greta.

But she'd gone all stubborn again. "Go then, Han. Run away again, see if I care. I betcha all the jewels in China you won't last. You'll end up all starvin' and freezin' and I hope birds'll come and peck at your brain so you won't never find the way back, no way no how!"

I snorted at her stupid speech and slung my bag on my back. I left by the ladder I'd set up ages ago under the window 'cos I always knew I'd be leaving.

I just thought Greta would be coming with me was different.

The streets were dark and cold. The buildings were too high to let the moonlight reach all the way down to the pavement. There was a mean wind that whistled 'round corners, through alleys, and under my skin, and even meaner people waiting in the shadows just where I couldn't see them no matter how fast I whipped my head 'round. A drunk was wandering and raving and babbling. He ran into a couple of people, falling all over them, puking on their shoes. The night watch caught up to him and tried to drag him away but he started screaming and wailing so loud like a raid siren and struggling enough to break his neck. They started beating him with their big, black sticks with huge meaty thwacks and then he was yowling and mewling like a little kitten and the noises kept echoing in my ears no matter how fast of how far I ran. I found a light coming through an open door. There was a lady inside wearing more skin than clothes. She ignored me but not the sneaky-looking man coming down the street. He stole quick glances all ways before the lady pulled him inside. The door was shut but I kept hovering 'found where the light had been like a moth, hoping it would come back 'cos it had been the only good thing in the night. An arm reached out of the shadows and pushed me down and grabbed my bag and kicked me and left and I just lay where I'd fell. I started to cry 'cos it hadn't even been a night and my clothes where all wet and I had none dry ones to put on and I was remembering me not having dinner 'cos I don't like tinned ham, and when I was running them birds'd come. I cried at the thought of having to live the rest of my life.
Then I met a man. His name is Jim. He says he likes little boys.

He took me home and gave me my own special room.

And gingerbread.

I hope the formatting is alright; was having issues with my computer. Meh. So, give me some feedback?