Adopted by Jennifer Lawrence

[19]: Mad

Maddie

September 4th

I've been staying under the sundeck of a beach house. It's nothing like the manor. It's just a plain one-story, made of painted wood. It's up the coast another twenty minutes or so from the cave, which makes it about a forty-minute walk from the manor. It's quite a hike to the rescue-wagon, which is about a mile past the manor, but I don't mind. This house is pretty secluded, which is good since after the weekend I'm going to have to start being careful about who sees me during school hours.

No one has used the deck since I got here, and even though lights come on inside the house, I think they're on a timer. They click on at the same time every night, so I'm guessing that this is somebody's vacation home.

I thought about checking for an unlocked window or door because it would be nice to sleep in a real bed for once, but I decided not to get greedy. You get greedy or start rationalizing why you're doing something and it'll come back and bite you. Mom rationalized a lot. "It's okay, baby. Why should we have to live without finer things? It's not our fault that Daddy was in a car accident. It's not right and it's not fair."

But when she'd lift perfume or nail polish or jewelry, that didn't feel right, either. Not like it did when we'd steal food.

Maybe I'm the one rationalizing now. Maybe stealing food is the same as stealing nail polish. What if hunger just overrides the other feeling in your gut? The one that tells you when something's wrong.

What is that, anyway? Where do we get that gut feeling? Do we learn it? Are we born with it? Where does it come from?

I wish I could ask my mom if she really believed what she was saying.

Maybe she was trying to talk the feeling in her gut away.

* * *

September 6th

It was hot yesterday and is today, too. The main beach has been packed with every imaginable size and shape of person enjoying the little bit of summer we have left. I did a lot of wishing for my ugly swimsuit. The waves have been so nice today. So inviting. Plus, I think my body's thirsty. Maybe it's all the sand or salt air that does it, but no matter how much water I drink, my skin feels thirsty.

Mostly, though, I've been thinking about a plan. I don't have one yet, but I know I need one. I'm sick of seeing Gemma and her mother at the rescue-wagon. I'm sick of walking endlessly through the sand. I'm sick of having nothing to do.

* * *

September 7th

I saw myself in a mirror today. I look awful! My nose is red and peeling, my face is a deep red-tan, and I have a little bit of wrinkles! I must have been squinting into the sun a lot because there are little lines of not-tan (or not-as-tan) around my eyes. My hair's filthy, and I'm still wearing a black t-shirt and corduroy jeans I got from The People's Church. I look homeless!

I need a plan. I need a plan bad.

* * *

September 8th

Okay, so here's my plan:

I find someplace more permanent to live. I get a bunch of books and homeschool myself. I adopt a dog from the pound. We hang out together all day, learning stuff and going on field trips together when it's safe (like when other kids are out of school). I'm happy. I'm safe. I'm learning stuff and I've got a friend.

That's my plan.

If I really try, I can make it work.

I have to.