Sorry I wasn't clear, but a gypsy is a person that migrated from India, lives in a caravan with other gypsies, moves from place to place looking for a job, are WAY too over the top, and some people don't like them because they've been known to steal stuff. IF I MISSED SOMETHING PLEASE TELL ME! I got my info from an online dictionary and My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding.
I don't own House of Anubis.
"Whoa!" Mara said. I was scared she would be disgusted with me after she found out, but Mara was thrilled. "Wait- why did you get a C on that gypsy report?"
"It was… for cover! Oh, and I wasn't exactly with the other gypsies," Mara nodded like this was normal. I lost myself while I thought about my past.
My parents wanted me to remain happy, but they still wanted me to learn. Fiona, my sister, was bitter. Mum felt bad because, before I was born, she was nice and well-loved. Then she went to school. She was shunned. Beaten up twice.
My parents decided I wouldn't go through it, so they gave me away when I was three. I went to the orphanage. Adopted at five, given back. At long last, I was adopted at seven. By a seemingly nice lady, her husband, and their daughter, Marie, who was my age. I didn't tell them I was a gypsy until I was eleven. Big mistake. That's when Marie decided to start stealing. Of course, I was blamed.
"How dare you steal from this family!" The father would roar, and throw me out on the street. I would wander and come back in a few hours, when they had figured out that I was innocent. But it wouldn't stop them from making the mistake the next time.
The last memory I have was barely two weeks after my fourteenth birthday. I was kicked out again and wandering the streets. I wasn't aware that my parents- for the first time ever- had decided to come visit me.
It seemed that they hadn't figured out that Marie was the thief yet.
At ten o'clock, I started to wonder if a fourteen-year-old could live off the streets. At twelve, I decided to sleep on a park bench. So I did.
The next morning, at five-something, my eyes fluttered open. A couple was standing over me in concern.
"It really is her!" cried the lady. She hugged me. "Get back, cow! I have pepper spray," I threatened.
The lady smiled at me. "Patricia! I'm Mum, remember?" I did, vaguely. A kind young redhead with dark gray eyes. Yeah, that was her.
"You look just like her," said my dad, meaning I looked like Mum. Well… she was pretty, I was Goth. She was really young, for a mom of both a sixteen and fourteen year old kids. She was thirty-two.
"What are you doing here, love?" asked Mum in concern.
"I got kicked out," I explained. That threw them over the edge. They were so furious that they stomped over to the house and changed custody in one conversation. Then I was sent to Anubis house.
I snapped back to reality as someone dumped a bucket of ice cold water- literally- on me. I looked up to see Jerome and Alphie.
"Time for you to die," I growled. They both laughed and ran out of the room. After I swiped off my running eyeliner, I ran after them.
5-10 reviews before I update again.
Um... okay? This chapter was basically to let you know Patricia's life story. Sorry if I was off on the whole custody thing!
~RosePedal51