She walked home late that night after her routine of scavenging for food. She didn't have much luck, except for one restaurant, the Sand Bar. Usually the girl in the back, was rude and always scowled if she was seen lurking in the alley, but if the male was in the back she was fed well. She could see him in the back today, lucky for her. Johnny was his name; he told her the third time he found her in the alley. She always offered to do something in return for his kindness, but he'd always refuse. Thanking Johnny she'd walk off with a full stomach and half a sandwich for lunch the next day.
She often wished she could meet him when they were on equal terms. She would have elaborate conversations with Johnny in her head, 'Good day Johnny and how you are on this marvellous day?" she'd ask him. To her his replay would be, "Fine thank you and what a marvellous day it is. Off to the beach to find your friends?" As long as she was dreaming she wished for a pony. If only dreams could come true, she'd be out of this place.
All imagination was crushed as soon as she walked through the garden gate in Cheap Side. Not many people realized that Playa Linda had a Cheap Side at first glance. All the houses looked similar to an outsider, but the further south you went, the nicer, bigger, more expensive the houses got, the further north, the smaller less expensive houses lay hidden to the tourists eyes. This is where she lived, it was no home, but it was a shelter.
She opened the door as quietly as possible so He wouldn't be waken. He was usually passed out by now. As she tiptoed down the hall, a head popped out from the kitchen. "Where have you been?" the head asked.
"At the library," she replied calmly.
"You lie!" it shrieked. "You found food didn't you?" It paused then shot out a boney hand. "Give it here," it demanded.
"No," she said coldly. She tried to run past the out stretched hand, but it caught her. The body emerged fully from the kitchen and pushed her against the wall. The hand snaked into the kangaroo pocket of her hoodie. Finding the left over sandwich wrapped in foil, the hand retreated out of the pocket. The girl looked at the skeleton figure in front of her with pure hate. "Get a job."
"I already have one," the figure returned.
"Get a job that pays more then your addiction can swallow!" she spat at it.
"Go to your room you ungrateful child!"
"Only if He gets out of there first."