Heal My Scars (A Lapidot Dystopia) (ON HIATUS)

II-Peridot

Despite the rain pouring down that night, I was still searching for the casino. I had heard of an event going on, and that could only mean one thing: lots and lots of food.

I knew it was going to be a good night when I saw all of the cars pulling up to the building. It was a good two day walk away from my normal shelter, and now it was totally worth it. People love food, but people also don't know how much their stomach wants to eat. I, on the other hand, knew what I wanted: a feast.

I sat in the alley next to the casino and waited into the night. I stayed there for so long that I was able to watch the moon move across the sky. The building was constantly pulsing with light, always active. My stomach was snarling at me, and I had to remind myself that I wouldn't have to wait too much longer.

At last, I heard an employee walking out and rolling something in front of him. I backed into the alley and silently waited for my feast to be dumped. I heard the sounds of different foods falling into the bins. It only made me hungrier. Finally, the employee walked away, and I walked out to see what my feast consisted of today.

In all of the bins were what looked like hundreds of hamburgers and buckets of fries, chicken, and even some dessert foods. There were to-go boxes too.

Jackpot!

I ran to the bins and rummaged through one of them until I had a partially-eaten hamburger in my hands. It looked like a little kid had tried to eat it, but they could only get through a couple of bites. I took that and a bucket of fries, and I sat down in the corner of the alley. The burger tasted like heaven, and my stomach loved it as much as I did. I didn't realize how hungry I had been until I finished it. My stomach was begging for more. It was a feast, indeed, it seemed.

After a few burgers and fries—and a slice of the casino's famous strawberry shortcake that I had found in a to-go box—I couldn't eat anymore. I walked to a nearby alley and slid behind its trash bin, resting my back against the wall and closing my eyes. I never slept deeply in case the Accordies showed up.

My sleep was uninterrupted, and I woke up the next morning still in the alley. It wasn't very busy out today, but that was expected. After all, it was Sunday. People were resting at home.

I walked down the sidewalk without anyone bugging me, fidgeting with the twenty dollar bill in my pocket as I did so. I would have to stop by Jasper's again sometime soon.

My knees began to ache after a while, and that meant I would have to sit down and rest soon. They were only human limbs, and walking around in giant metal boot things exhausted them. I was jealous of the people who didn't walk around with half-prosthetic legs.

I saw the café down the street, a usual stop of mine, and walked in, looking around at all of the nice decor. It was supposedly decorated by the owner's daughter who had been murdered the year before by a stray. I couldn't visit without being chased out for a while after that.

I strolled up to the counter and was greeted by the smiling face of an older man.

"Peridot!" He exclaimed with a hint of an Italian accent. "If it isn't my favorite stray!"

"Stray's kinda derogatory," I responded. "Just runaway will work."

"Ah, yes," the man said, still smiling. "My favorite runaway."

He had come from Italy as a child and had grown up in the Bronx, as I had learned in my third time coming here. He'd sat me down and told me his story, which was really quite interesting. He had also expressed a firm disapproval of the Wealth-Child Accord, as it sent children like me into the streets if we wanted to escape a miserable life of imprisonment.