Chapter Two: Angels

Lights flickered on the subway, casting shadows over Dalia and Kara's faces. They laughed as they made faces at each other. Mimi just sat in her seat, smiling vacantly at them as she went over in her mind the events of the morning.

"Um… My name is Mimi… Marquez…" Mimi blushed in embarrassment as she stumbled over her name.

"Shouldn't you be in school, Miss Marquez? You look like you're thirteen."

"I'm sixteen!"

"Relax chica. I was just joking." Angel smiled. Mimi decided then that she liked Angel's smile.

"Besides," she continued slowly. "I should probably be in school too…"

"What school do you go to anyways?" Mimi asked.

"St. Joshua's. You?"

"St. Joshua's… Isn't that a boys' school?"

"Well…" She hesitated, "Yes."

Silence fell over the children; not an uncomfortable, awkward silence, but one shared between friends. Angel smiled suddenly.

"What?" Mimi asked.

"An angel just flew over us."

"I don't think I understand…"

"You know when every one gets quiet and are quietly thinking their own thoughts?" Mimi nodded. "That's what happens every time an angel flies over."

Mimi was going to ask where she had learnt that from, but at that moment the subway came barreling through and Mimi had to grab the little girls and haul them aboard.

"Come in, come in! Gracious, niños, I was expecting you over an hour ago… Mimi, you can go do homework, or something, eh? I'll look after the wee ones." Nana said as she pulled her grandchildren into her small condo. Mimi just smiled and nodded; she never did her homework: she was lucky if she went to school at all, it never even occurred to her to bring it. Still, she went into the dining room and pulled out some paper and a pencil worn down to a stub. Pulling and pushing the pencil around comforted Mimi. It made her feel in control. Dancers spilled onto the page, graceful limbs splayed with Ballet perfection. Once, for about a month, Mimi had actually taken Ballet lessons; but as soon as Mama was contacted about payment, all Mimi's dancing dreams died.

Hours passed without any thought towards Mama, the girls or Ballet as Mimi thought up stories to go with her perfect ballerinas'. One was a university student studying to be a Ballet teacher, another was a young girl, who, every day after she got back from her private school, she and her friends would go to the dance school and warm up together. Laughing at the days events and having to continue their conversations in whispers after the teacher told them to be quiet. Mimi liked this girl the best.

"Mimi! It is time for you to get the little girl's coats on! You have to go home!" Nana's voice floated into the dining room from the foyer where Kara was trying to tie her shoes and Dalia playing absent-mindedly with a Barbie. Mimi packed her things and took some money from the Money Jar her grandmother had to pay for fair on the way home. After grabbing the six twenty, her fingers lingered on a couple of one dollar bills.

"Mimi!" an urgent call from the next room sounded as Dalia's wails filled the house. Eyes wide, as if she was shocked by her own actions, she took the extra money and stuffed it all in her pocket; safe for Angel.

Running into the foyer, Mimi gave a short laugh filled with hysteria. Dalia holding her newly headless Barbie and wailing, Kara with huge knots in her shoe laces, seeing her sister's distress, began sniffling and Nana, ready to pull her hair out and scream at them was just too much.

"Why on earth are you laughing, girl?! Get your sisters and please, for the love of peace, go home!"

"Yes, Nana… Dally, stop crying… I'll get you a new one." Mimi lied.

At the train station once more, Mimi looked around hopefully for Angel; then chided herself for thinking she would still be here.

Standing outside the apartment door, Mimi groaned. Yells and screaming echoed through the bare hall. Papa was home.

As Mimi sighed, the door flew open to reveal her Papa. At six-foot-one, and the beginnings of a beer belly, Papa filled up the doorway with the stench of rotten wood: from a job of sorting firewood, and beer mingling with piss. Mimi covered up her gag with a fake cough. Too fake. Papa immediately turned his drunken glaze upon her and raised his right hand. Knowing the look, Mimi ducked; only to have his left hand hit her across the face leaving a painful welt. Tears sprang to her eyes as she looked past her father's bulk into the apartment to silently plea to her mother. As always, Catalina Marquez, her mother and supposed protector, turned away.

Hey, this is by-far my shortest chapter... Please review! Thanks