Crossroads

"You like books?"

Amy whirled around, instantly on the alert, appraising Missie like an enemy. She stood before the bookcase, cutting a pathetic figure in one of Missie's oversized nighties, the fabric faded, rendering the teddy-bear emblazoned across the front almost out of existence. She was wearing a pair of stripy pink and black socks pulled up the knees, also courtesy of Missie.

"Do you mind if I come in?" Missie asked from the doorway, disliking having to ask permission to enter her own room, but understanding at the same time she had to respect the child's personal space, not wanting Amy to think she was some sort of weirdo.

Amy studied Missie, brows drawing together, before nodding, the action abrupt.

Missie obeyed, still careful to keep her distance. "You see these books, right?" she pointed out, gesturing to the bookcase. "Well, they're my books and this my room, so respect the zone, okay?"

"If this is your room, why did your mom put me in here?" Amy questioned, folding her arms across her chest. "And why did your mom lie to the cop lady about you living here?"

"My mom is a bitch," Missie snapped, "that's all you need to know."

"You shouldn't talk about your mom like that."

"What do you know about my mom, huh?" Missie retorted, rounding on her. "You just got here and already you've got an opinion on her."

"At least you have a mom!" Amy choked out. "She's still alive!"

Missie stared at her. "Right, that's enough," she said agitadedly, smoothing back her hair with both hands, "get to bed."

"No."

"You don't wet yourself, do you?" Missie demanded, ignoring her. "I don't want my bed turned into Piss City."

"I don't wet the bed!" Amy protested. "I'm not a baby!"

"You sure act like one."

Amy glared at her before stomping over to the bed and climbing into it with some difficulty. "What type of bed is this?" she complained, wiping her eyes with the inside of her wrist. "This isn't a proper bed."

"It's more than a proper bed, brat," Missie snapped, "it's a four-poster bed, I'll have you know, the height of freaking luxury."

"Yeah, right."

"Do you want me to tuck you in?"

"I told you I wasn't a baby."

"And I've been told to look after you, so booyah, okay?"

"Your mom is supposed to be looking after me."

"Yeah, maybe in a parralel unvierse," Missie scoffed. "Until I get a job, I'm at her beck and call, brat."

"I'm not a brat either, brat."

Missie exhaled sharply, before pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and fore-finger. "Look," she said, exhaling sharply, "it's been a long night, so let's just call it a night, okay?"

Amy wrinkled her nose. "Well, call it," she said smartly, "I'm not the one running off my mouth here."

"Jeesh, you might be ten years old but you've got the mindset of an old tyrant," Missie snapped, her gaze wandering over to the turquise backpack sitting on her vanity.

"Don't touch that!" Amy flared up, following the path of her stare. "That's mine! It's private!"

"Well, don't touch my stuff unless I say otherwise, and I won't go near your backpack, okay?" Missie bargained, making Amy's eyes narrow.

"Fine, whatever," Amy agreed, lying down, drawing the counterpane over her head.

"Did you brush your teeth?"

"Do I want my teeth to fall out?"

"Well, did you or not!?"

"You know I did."

"Uh, do you want me to take away the cushions, then?"

"No, I don't," Amy said impatiently, "why are you acting like you care?"

"I don't care," Missie snapped, "I don't even know you. But I'm not entirely made of stone, you know. I'm not a complete bitch."

"Even though they do everything better?"

Missie looked down at the front of her jumper. "This outfit isn't doing me any favours, is it?" she said self-deprecatingly. "Also, don't swear," she added hastily.

"I'm not, I am quoting."

Missie shook her head at this. "Well," she then said awkwardly, making for the door, "I'll be downstairs if you need me." Kipping on the freaking couch, Missie added as a bitter afterthought. "I'll leave the light on for you," she finished, before turning and leaving, every step strangely feeling like a mile.

Just every time I run

I keep on falling…