Before - 2012
Hell is empty and all the devils are here - William Shakespeare
Being a waitress is an easy job for me. People expect foreigners to do jobs nobody else wants to do. I worked nine till five, earning ten pounds fifty an hour. To me, that was pretty good pay. Then again, the café was overpriced.
The truth is, I am not really that foreign. I have lived in England for most of my life (that I can remember.). I moved here when I was nine and spoke only Italian, as did my parents and brother - but I really made the effort to be able to speak English. I am fluent now, but in primary and high school, I was really teased whenever I had to think of what I was about to say. It was the worst time of my life. Girls laughed at me and copied my accent, boys made fun of me behind my back. It also didn't help that I am a redhead. They all teased me for years. That was until I hit puberty at thirteen. By then, I was in year eight.
Being a fifteen year old, I care a lot about what guys think of me. I like the way I look, even if my hair is the colour of the sunset. To some, that might be a good thing. My emerald coloured eyes stood out the most. I inherited them from my mother.
She didn't stick around long. Neither had my father. They'd given my brother and I up one year after moving to England. So, my life story continued into a care home filled with abandoned children of all ages.
Mr. and Mrs. Lovelace ran the care home. They were a happily married couple who let the care kids do whatever they pleased. I got away with so many things. It was unbelievable to be honest. The little kids did so much and never got caught with any of it. In any other home, they would have been punished without question.The home had enough furniture for everyone: beds for every child and enough tables to have everyone present at breakfast. However, the furniture wasn't exactly top of the line. Mrs. Lovelace didn't care for fancy looking furniture or gadgets (as she called them). She much preferred to buy things from charity shops. The cheaper the better she thought.
Although I got into a lot of trouble, it wasn't ever anything serious. Not until my thirteenth birthday hit. It was almost as if a switch inside me had been flicked, letting go of all the pent up feelings I'd kept inside me and turning me into a very rebellious young girl. I hadn't done anything of the sort before, but all of a sudden, I became a drug-taking, smoking, law breaking and flirtatious mess. I enjoyed it, as if I was supposed to be doing those things. These actions became practically second nature to me. I didn't consider calming down at all. The authorities at the care home weren't able to control me, but they didn't give up on me. They knew, and I knew, I would never be placed in a foster home or adopted. I would just be given my own flat the minute I turned sixteen. I would leave school and continue waitressing. I hadn't thought out my future. Not that it mattered to me. I didn't mind not having a plan. Most people planned their future from the age of thirteen. Not me.
On the morning of a Thursday, the worst day ever, I woke up at around 6:00. I dressed in my waitressing clothes, jumped down the stairs and smiled sweetly at Mrs. Lovelace, who handed me a bowl of cereal drowning in milk. She offered me some of her home-made toast and butter.
"Would you like some, Kate, dear?" She said in her bouncy, sweet voice. Mr. Lovelace came into the kitchen at that point and started to dance to the music that was playing on the radio. It was old music that didn't interest me at all.
"Ah, Lena! This was our wedding song! Do you remember?" He said, gruffly. Mrs. Lovelace nodded and they began to dance around the crowded kitchen.
"No thanks." I declined, not sure if she was listening. I sat at the table and watched the others eat their breakfast too.
The children were in their school clothes; they were getting milk all down them. Their bags were at their feet and they were roaring to go. I dropped out of school, so it wasn't an issue anymore. I worked every day, but had weekends off. On my days off, I would just sit and twiddle my thumbs, perhaps go and see Kyle and break the law. As I said, my future wasn't any concern to me.
YOU ARE READING
Meet Me
Teen Fiction"Say when." Kate Farah used to be normal. Now, she is in the middle of a death sentence with her brother, Owen, and best friend, Luisa. Family secrets will be shattered, blood will be split and love will be buried deep. "When." This isn't a love st...