On My Own
Marty was just starting to become friends with Blair. She had been doing her best to keep up with all the duties at the shoppe. She would get up early and get her day started with Miss Melinda and Blair. She preformed her duties of cleaning. She kept things neat in the store all day long til late into the evening when it was closing time.
Sometimes Marty listened when Miss Melinda taught Blair her lessons. She wanted to learn so badly. She wanted to try writing the numbers and adding and subtracting, but she had work to do around the shoppe. She really wished she could sit and read books all day like Blair often did. She wished she could just be an ordinary little girl. She didn't want to have to work all the time in the shoppe. She worked long hours. She did her best, but she could hardly keep up.
One day the door of the shoppe opened as a woman breezed in. "Melinda, are you here?!" a voice called out as the woman entered and nearly tripped over Marty.
Marty looked up to to see a tall woman with dark curly hair and an angry face. "Who in the world are you?" the woman demanded.
"I- I'm Sara Beth," Marty said meekly.
"WHAT are you doing in my store?" demanded the woman. "I am the store owner, Dorian Lord. Where is my sister Melinda?"
"I work here," Marty stated. "Miss Melinda ... hired me."
"Ex-cuuuse me!" Dorian said. "Hired you?"
"Yes, M'am, she hired me," Marty repeated.
Dorian made a sound of disgust. "Melinda!" she hollered.
"Ohhh please don't yell. Blair is having her lessons. Could I help you?" Marty asked, hoping that Miss Lord would stop yelling.
"Don't you DARE tell me what to do!" Dorian exploded. "Who are you anyway- telling ME what to do?! I own this place!"
Just then Melinda stepped into the shoppe. "Dorian, why are you yelling?" Melinda asked calmly. "What is wrong?"
"I heard you all the way from the backroom. I was helping Blair with her lessons," Melinda explained. "What has you all upset?"
"She needs to go!" Dorian exclaimed, pointing at Marty. "She's rude and bossy."
"Sara Beth's a nice girl, Aunt Dorian," Blair spoke up as she entered the room. "She helps Mother here in the shoppe and we play together."
"I don't care!" Dorian cried. "This is MY shoppe. I own it. And I say she goes."
"Dorian, have a heart," said Melinda.
Dorian just shook her head. "Get your things and go," she said coldly to Marty.
"But she doesn't have any food... and no place to stay," said Blair sadly. She didn't want her new friend to go.
"That's not our problem; you don't feed every stray cat you meet," Dorian snapped.
She glared at Marty. "Now leave - at once," she ordered. She was not about to argue.
Marty looked from both Blair and Melinda, but neither one said another word. She knew that Dorian had the final say in this, so all she could do was go gather her things. She went to the store room and placed Sara Beth back into her suitcase. She tried not to cry as she finished packing.
Where would she go? What would she do?
Marty walked out of the store, things in hand. She didn't even stop to say goodbye to Miss Melinda and Blair, though she wished had. Now she had lost yet another friend. It was so unfair! She hurried away from the shoppe and down the street.
What would she eat now? Where would she get money?
Feeling all alone and miserable, Marty headed toward the park. She just had to find another job. She could never go back to Miss Priscilla's Boarding School or to her mean Aunt Kiki. Her suitcase in hand, Marty arrived at the park. She sat down on a park bench and tried not to cry. She willed the tears not to come as she watched the children happily playing with their parents nearby. She wanted someone to love her, too.
Why doesn't anyone want me? What do I have to do for them to want me?
Marty sniffled a little bit, the tears falling freely now. She was scared and alone.
How am I going to make it alone like this?
She had wanted to go to Heaven to be with her mommy and daddy, but it was so hard. No one seemed to know how to get there, and so many had been cruel to her along her journey.
Knowing she could never return to where she had been, Marty wandered the streets, living on scraps of food she could find, sometimes begging for pennies. The nights were hardest. She didn't have a safe place to sleep. She was barely getting by.
The days kept going by and the routine was the same for her, begging for money to eat and survive. She would sleep on a bench or sidewalk somewhere. It was horrible, and nothing made her feel safe. Barely anyone would speak to her except those people who gave her spare coins once and awhile. Sometimes she'd receive a few murmurs of 'how sad.'
Another year had passed. Marty was now nine. Despite her best efforts, she hadn't been able to find another job. She was living all alone, and her heart was broken.
All Marty seemed to have was her dear Sara Beth, her precious doll, the only tangible link she had to her previous life and her parents. Then one day the unthinkable happened. Sara Beth was taken. Her only remaining friend was in peril.