Mallory
"Thief! Get her!"
I ran as fast as I could through the crowded street, with the owner of the bread store and his assistant closely chasing behind. Their shouts echoed throughout the busy avenue, drawing attention from the shoppers and bystanders around us. Disgust was evident in their eyes.
I bit my lower lip as I continued to run, tears streaming down my cheeks. I tried my best not to be distracted by them. I needed to run as fast as I could, or those two judgmental pricks would catch up to me.
"Please, I didn't steal anything," I uttered in between sobs, hoping that someone would hear and believe me as I kept running. I couldn't help but blame myself for the unfortunate situation. If only I hadn't attempted to sneak into that restaurant to scavenge for leftovers, the owner wouldn't have noticed me and falsely accused me of taking one of their customers' rings. It was a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
It's funny how life works sometimes. My name is Mallory Wanless, which literally means "unfortunate." I couldn't help but chuckle wryly at the irony of it all. Maybe my name was a sign, a subtle hint from fate about the difficult path that lay ahead of me.
As I contemplated this peculiar connection between my name and the trials I had endured, a smile tugged at the corners of my lips. It was almost as if the universe had conspired to label me with this name, a constant reminder of the hardships that seemed to follow me wherever I went.
"Hurry and catch that thief! Don't let her get away!" I heard the store owner talking to someone, and when I glanced over my shoulder, I saw two patrolmen getting involved. My heart raced as I saw them joining the chase. I needed to focus on finding a way to lose them; otherwise, I would spend another night at the police station. The last time I did, I was almost violated by one of them, claiming that nobody would believe a scruffy-looking homeless girl like me if I told anyone about it. My life is really unfair.
As I continued to navigate through the maze of people, I pushed myself to run even faster. This time, I relied on my familiarity with the place, as the streets of Whitewood City had become my home for so many years after becoming an orphan and getting in and out of the foster system. I had tried to get a decent job, but I failed. Some wanted me to work as a stripper, but I still had the dignity to refuse.
A few minutes later, I lost the group of men chasing me. I smiled in gratitude as I slowed down and strolled casually through the bustling city. The sun was already setting when I heard my stomach growling. That's when I remembered I hadn't eaten a single meal throughout the day.
Just as I was on the verge of giving up, a flicker of hope ignited within me. My gaze landed upon a croissant resting on the street floor near the dumpster. With a few rubs on my clothes, it would be decent enough to eat. A small smile tugged at my lips as I hurriedly ran to pick it up.
I couldn't help but stare at the bread in my hand. Its buttery aroma filled my nostrils, making me drool. Just as I was about to take a bite, I heard a mild whisper beside me.
"Just try to get some sleep, Lily. That way, you won't feel the hunger."
I saw two youngsters near the dumpster, talking amongst themselves. By their looks, I could easily tell they were like me, homeless outcasts without any parents or relatives to take care of them. Maybe, the social workers haven’t found them yet that's why they were here in the streets.
"But I can't, Robbie. I couldn't sleep because my tummy is aching."
With that, I let out a heavy sigh. Children always had a way of tugging at my heartstrings. Without hesitation, I turned to them and extended the croissant in my hand.
"Here, let your sister eat this," I said softly.
The children looked up at me, a mixture of confusion and gratitude on their young faces. I didn't need to say anything more. I simply nodded and offered them a smile, which brought a smile to the little girl's face.
"Thank you, sister," the older brother said, taking the bread from my hand and sharing it with his sibling. They broke it in half and enjoyed it together, savoring each bite.
At that moment, I knew it was time for me to move on. I let out another sigh, feeling sorry for myself as I realized I would once again sleep with a grumbling stomach. I placed a hand on the back of my head, contemplating where I could find shelter for the night. A glimmer of hope lit up my face when I noticed a bench nearby in the park.
Excitedly, I began to skip towards the wooden bench, anticipating the comfort it would provide. However, my enthusiasm was short-lived as another homeless man intercepted my path.
"Where do you think you're going? I saw that bench first. It's mine." His voice carried a tone of possessiveness and anger.
Reluctantly, I backed away, knowing it was best to avoid any trouble. Years of living on the streets had taught me to steer clear of conflicts, especially with others in similar circumstances. With a defeated sigh, I turned and walked away. My search for a place to rest continued as I walked around.
Then, my nose caught up with something.
"Grilled meat! That smells like grilled meat!" I exclaimed. The delicious smell made me feel better as if I had a new burst of energy. Part of me thought I might be imagining it since I was walking toward a park. But I couldn't help but hope that there was really food nearby, a hot meal waiting for me.
I couldn't resist following the smell. It pulled me in like a magnetic force, drawing me closer with each step. Doubts still lingered in my mind, but my curiosity and hunger drove me forward.
The scent grew stronger as I ventured deeper into the park. The smell mixed with the night air, guiding me along a twisting path. Anticipation pulsed through my veins. And finally, after a few more strides, I reached the source of the enticing scent. A smile formed on my lips as I took in the sight before me—a vibrant outdoor party unfolding right in front of my eyes.
