The Golden Rule

Ch 4: Very Wrong

Acci’s was comfortable being swallowed by her mattress. With her headache gone, she drifted between sleep and alertness until her stomach grumbling finally made the choice for her. She struggled to find some footing to lift herself up, but the juices she washed down her throat yesterday hadn't warn off. She tumbled off her mattress and into an old white wall, sending a shower of white plaster chips straight down on her head. She tried to brush out the thick particles, but her clumsy movements only succeeded in sending the rest careening down her face. It wasn’t long before her anger won her over, so she blindly grabbed the nearest towel and started scrapping away the dust coating her eyes and mouth. Despite her mishap, she finally felt energized enough to get up. She quickly grabbed her face paints to cover up the new bloody cuts from the rag and the remaining dust blotches that sat stubbornly in her hair.

            From the window, a familiar smell wafted under her nose and sent her reeling backwards as her stomach contracted painfully in desire. Unwilling to stand anymore pain, she ran out of her room and headed straight for the door way to find the source of the smell. When she opened the door, a barrage of people came running across and nearly splintered the door when they pushed it back. It was jolting enough to freeze her in her place.

“What? Accident! Dumass girl! Always tryin ta break da house! Shoulda let her live in dat Child Place when I had the chance. Dat money’s not worth nothin! ” groaned Burnt’s nasally voice from the room behind her. She could feel her body heat rising as the bulky muscles in her arms began to tighten with every word that came out of his wasted, bitter, old mouth. She didn’t need another reminder of the how he forced her out into the city that nearly squeezed out every last drop of her blood into its unforgiving concrete.

 You nothin without dat Mask money. she brooded over while quietly prying the door open.

“Yep! When dos Mask guys came with Hart’s kid, I shoulda slammed the doe in dey face. Iffa Hart didn’t wan it, I shoulda known dat money was bad!” were the last clear words that she heard from him before completely closing it. The blood that was dripping from her injured palms told her how close she was from going up to him and mangling his throat until it shattered in her hands. She had to remember that this arrangement was lucky for the both of them. She was certain that if she was raised in the Child Place like everyone else, she wouldn’t have become the fighter she was now.  Burnt could only make empty threats. She was the only reason that he hasn’t starved to death since he never could take his bony frame and sagging gut outside the door.

Visions of her throwing his corpse out the window slowed her heart rate to its normal rhythm and filled her with giddy joy. It was then when she finally noticed the crowd up the street with more people running towards it. Acci could not imagine what could possibly be so exciting to gather all those people.

Then it hit her. Food Truck. A food drop! She jumped from the door way and sprinted down with another group of hungry runners right behind her. The delicious scent that had wafted into room was growing stronger as she approached the crowd and nearly sent her down as her stomach twisted again to remind her how long it has been since she had a full meal. Soon she drifted into a daze where all the possible food choices were cycling through her mind.

It hasta be meat this time. I member when dey brought fish. Nah it’s probably dat white stuff again. Why do Pearlies eat nasty stuff like dat? But it smells so good this time. All I had  this week was tonic and some dirty old apple, and I had give dat fatass, Burnt one. I’m not gonna bring back nothing for him. I’m gonna stuff so much in my mouth I wont need ta eat for a week.

Her thoughts were cut short when the feeling of her cheek slamming against someone’s sweaty skin brought her out of her daze. She saw a great moving wall of people was in front of her fighting, yelling and pushing each other out of the way to fit into the little pockets of space left open. She had just spotted one of these lucky holes when a pair of cold hands suddenly grabbed her throat.